Return of the Court
by Icecane
Summary: Sparrow has proven himself a hero. Defeating the Spire was no easy task and now the hero wants to rest from his journeys. But when an ancient and powerful evil returns to retake the lands it lost, will Sparrow be strong enough to defeat it?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Though I know the 'Jack is Back' theme isn't all that original, I hope I can make it sound good enough for the readers enjoyment. (Clears Throat) I don't own the greatness that Fable is, that credit goes to Lionhead.**

**Return of the Court**

**Chapter: 1**

"HEY! Don't even think about leavin' without payin' for your room." The Rookridge Innkeeper was shouting to a dark figure exiting the Inn.

The figure was tall, very thin and dressed in black clothing that seemed to be made out of the night sky itself. He turned to the Innkeeper, with daggers in his eyes, but slowly walked up to the counter he was behind. As menacing as the man looked the Innkeeper has had his share of ruffians coming in and out of the facility and wasn't intimidated.

"You owe thirty gold for your room, sir."

"Here." The man's voice was rough and deep like an old mans, though the man seemed middle aged, it was hard to tell from the black cloth he wore over his face. He reached into a bag tied to his side and pulled out the right amount of coins, he dropped them onto the counter and walked off.

"You wont have long to enjoy it anyway," the man muttered to himself as he left the Inn.

He didn't enjoy having to hide amongst the rats of these lands, scrounging from place to place until he could reach his destination. The people of Albion should show him the proper respect, the proper fear, but he knew it would only slow him down. Though his destination was close, the journey had left him weary and he would need to be rested to complete his final task.

As the mysterious man walked up the road from the Inn he could feel the air growing thicker with evil, the sky started to darken in a deep dark black shade. He was getting closer.

A ways up the road there was a fork, next to it stood a sign. The man approached the sign, on it was an arrow pointing straight ahead that said 'Oakfield' on it. The man huffed to himself and looked at the other direction to the left, there was a crudely placed gate that was locked with a chain. He placed a hand on the chain and it immediately melted away in his hand, while the remains fell to the ground.

The man pushed the gate open and continued down the path. After a few minutes of walking he reached a long stone bridge, it ran off the cliff side and connected to a small mountain in the ocean. Sitting on top of the mountain was a large stone wall circling the perimeter. Though it appeared to be in ruins, he knew the wall itself was nothing special and the real power was far below.

As the man crossed the bridge he began tearing off his shirt and mask, since he was reaching his destination he had no need to hide himself any longer. With his bare chest in the open, it could be seen that he had a tattoo of a strange symbol on his back and chest. The symbol was of a large open half circle with daggers running through it. The same symbol was on his face as well.

The bridge had ended and led to a massive open gate in the wall, past it he could see the large empty courtyard that the wall surrounded. There was a small stage that served no purpose at the far end, but in the very center was a wide hole, a spiral staircase led down to the very bottom. The man was breathing harder in anticipation, just a few more feet and he could prepare his final task.

* * *

The underground sanctuary was as dark as ever, only half of the torches were lit and a white mist shrouded the halls and chambers. In the very center of the main chamber were five figures, two stood at the entrance to one of the hallways, dressed as mercenaries. The other three figures stood in the center of the chamber, they all wore identical black hooded robes with a red stripe in the center, a bright orange mask was strapped to each of their faces.

"As I was saying," one of the hooded figures continued, his voice sounding high pitched and sluggish, "we need to find a way to get our revenge on that hero."

"What we need are more members and a new leader, maybe repair the temple while were at it, the shadows wont be happy with our work." Another hooded figure said back, his voice a little more deeper then the first.

"Like you know what we should do," the last hooded figure spoke up, "if anything we should throw ourselves to the darkness and perform a ritual to help us."

As the robed figures bickered about what they should be doing, the two mercenaries were rolling their eyes. After a few minutes of listening to the arguments one of them leaned toward the other.

"psst. Hey Frank." One of the mercenaries was whispered to the other. "Why are we helping' these nut jobs out again?"

"Iv told you John, they're paying good gold for us to protect them while they're having this 'meeting'."

"Protect them, from what?"

"Apparently, without their old leader this place gets attacked by Banshees and Hollow Men."

"What!" The one known as John sounded worried, "I doubt we can handle a Banshee ourselves!"

"Don't worry, like you said these guys are nut jobs, I'm sure the worst we will see is a beetle or something."

The hooded figures, continued talking, while the mercenaries seemed uninterested in their current surroundings, no one heard the light footsteps coming down the stairway.

"Look you guys," the second hooded figure said, "the cult is practically gone, the temple is falling apart, we have no leader, and the world is laughing at us. We need to figure out what to do."

"You can start," a deep voice echoed from the main hallway, as the five people turned to look at the tall figure standing before them "by following someone who actually has power in the dark arts." As he walked into the room his shadow caused the chamber to dim even more.

"And just who might you be." The first hooded man spoke up, his high voice filled with skepticism.

"Names are not important, but for formality purposes you'll just call me Sir." One of the men was about to speak but a quick glare from 'Sir' stopped him on the spot.

Sir looked from person to person, eyeing the two mercenaries with interest, and turned to the three cultists.

"Hmm, I did not expect to find others down here, although this will make it all the more easier for me." Sir's face twisted into a smirk. "Though I am not sure how well you will participate, your 'Cult' was nothing more then buffoons who could only threaten a simple farm town. Your only good member was your leader and even he was misguided with foolish ideas that the shadows would give him ultimate power."

"Now see here," one of the cultists spoke his outrage, "we were one of the most feared shadow cults in the area, we had that town on their knees, and you dare come here and insult us."

At that Sir laughs, it was a dark maniacal laugh that seemed to cast an even larger shadow on the chamber. The two mercenaries shudder at the sound of it while the cultists seemed too angry at the insults to notice.

"The most feared? You were the _only _cult in this area. Your nothing but fools who wouldn't understand evil power if you were standing under it. In fact," he pointed to the center were the cultists stood, "you are. You have no idea of the power this sanctuary has, you disgrace it with your pathetic sacrifices of petty farmers."

"We will show you," the cultist's anger had reached its point, "we may not be able to fight but we have muscle on our side. Mercenary, attack this blasphemer."

Frank stepped forward but hesitated for a moment. Sir looked menacing, but he didn't seem all that strong. So he unsheathed his sword and charged at the man. Sir just stood there with the same smirk across his face, when Frank was close enough to strike, Sir raised his hand, it glowed with a dark power. Frank stopped in his tracks, his sword falling from his grip, hitting the floor with a loud clang.

Sir raised his hand higher and the mercenary lifted with it, while the others looked at the scene with horror, Frank made a chocking noise and grabbed for his neck.

"Don't worry, it will all be over soon," Sir's voice sounded both soothing and vicious. Still raising the squirming body of the mercenary higher, Sir swept his hand across the chamber, Frank was sent flying to the far end of the room. He hit head first against the wall, a loud crack sounded with the shatter of his neck. His body slumped against the wall while debris from the impact landed on his lifeless body, blood started to spill onto the floor around him.

"Now I will trust that you all will be excited to help me with my task, I would hate to have to waste more of my energy on any of you." His voice sounded casual as if the feat he had just done was nothing but a parlor trick.

"W-what are you?" Was all a trembling cultist could ask. While everyone else stood speechless, afraid that their next statement could be their last.

"I am apart of a powerful group, we are known as the Cult of Blades." He ran a finger across the tattoo on his chest. "It was created hundreds of years ago when our master was slain by a foolish hero, we have all vowed to bring about the power to destroy any and all heroes from the lands and to one day bring back our master so he may rule. This vow is why I am here today, and I will use you to help in this endeavor."

The cultists and remaining mercenary all nodded, they had no idea what would happen but they hated heroes as well and were all too scared to protest against it anyway.

"Yes, Sir." They all said, he smiled and started to order them about to prepare for the ritual he would perform. He pulled out a leather sack from his bag and threw it to the group. The sack was filled with small black candles.

"Place them around the room and light them," he ordered. They followed the command, as the candles were lit the flame quickly changed from orange to black. The candles added no light to the room, they seemed to make it even darker, soaking up any light nearby.

Sir reached into his bag and pulled out a white mask. Even though it appeared to be a simple mask, everyone quivered as soon as they saw it. The mask was decorated with odd markings, one eye was bordered with red while the other one was with purple. The bottom left portion of the chin was colored purple with a strange flame shape on it. Smaller symbols were painted on the forehead between the eyes. Sir held it as if were a delicate flower, rubbing his hands across it gingerly.

"It has taken many years to create this mask, a proper mask for the ritual. But like the master we were always patient, always waiting for the right time to act." Sir was staring into the mask's empty eyes, lost in thought."Uhh, Sir?" One of the cultists decided to speak up. "What exactly are we trying to do here?"

Sir quickly glared at the cultist, causing him to almost fall over as he stepped backward. Again he looked at the mask, but for a shorter time. He then pointed to the mercenary known as John.

"You, stand in the center, and put this mask on. And be careful with it, if you damage it the ritual will fail, and you'll know my fullest wrath." He hissed the last words and the mercenary moved to the center taking the mask without hesitation.

Though as soon as he was holding the mask, John had a feeling of dark power rush through his body. It even felt like the mask was calling to him, beckoning for him to put it on. As he turned the mask in his hands he saw the inside was decorated with bright red runes, so intricate as they covered the whole inside leaving only small bits of white left.

"So what will happen?" The power of the mask distracted John from his current fear of the man they called Sir. He quickly looked up at the man who just stood there smiling at him, John didn't know if he understood the power that he was feeling right now.

"It's all very simple, that mask will give you unimaginable power, power that even the gods will envy. It is based off of an old artifact that was destroyed long ago, but after many years our people found a ritual that can recreate it. Though it took us many more years to make the vessel for the power, actually bringing that power forth was a feat even we couldn't handle. That was, of course, until I learned of a temple that held so much darkness, it made the perfect point for the ritual. Much to my surprise to learn that its power was wasted as a refuge for these idiots." The cultists didn't show any sign of anger at that, they were still in shock at the power the stranger held.

John just looked down at the mask in his hands. Ultimate power? The idea sounded promising to the mercenary, all the things he could do. He could rule Albion, take everything he has ever wanted from this world, and even watch that damned hero, Lionheart, fall at his feet.

He raised the mask to his face, the whispers from the mask increased as it came closer to him. The power pulsing more and more rapidly. John closed his eyes at the mask came over him, preparing for the power he was told he would receive.

Nothing happened. John looked around, he felt no different, the whispers and beckoning of the mask had stopped. He saw Sir standing in front of him, a large sadistic grin stretched across his face. As he was about to pull the mask off to ask why, he felt it cling to his skin and tighten. He panicked, trying to pry off the mask with all his strength, it stayed on, his fingers started to turn white and his heart pounded rapidly against his chest.

"What's going on?" He was screaming, looking to the dark figure before him for answers. Sir just stood there, still grinning.

"The ritual is beginning, and as promised you will receive immense power. Too bad though, you wont have it for but a moment." He waved his dark hand across the struggling mercenary and black chains sprang from the ground, locking around his ankles and wrists, keeping him in place at the center.

"You! Cultist, come here now!" He was pointing to one of the robed men who had been cowering in the far side of the room. He slowly approached the man. As soon as he reached him, Sir raised his glowing hand again and cut into the cultist's chest. All the cultist could do was cough up the blood filling his mouth before he died. Sir pulled his hand from the wound, watching as the lifeless body fell to the ground, and quickly began to write on the ground with his blood soaked fingers.

"What are you doing?" A belligerent cultist yelled to him. "We needed fresh blood for the ritual." Sir was breathing harder as he hurriedly scribble more runes, he was circling them around the chained mercenary, his screams of terror slowly turning into low grunts and whimpers.

"We can begin!" Sir shouted with excitement in his voice. He reached out both his hands and began mumbling an inaudible language. His voice grew louder and louder until the entire sanctuary echoed from him. The black candles slowly dimmed and went out. Black flames engulfed Sir's hands as he began to chant even faster.

After a time had passed, the runes circling around John began to glow. The cultists watched in amazement and fear as the glowing runes burst into dark red flames, the flames moved towards the masked mercenary and soon engulfed his feet. John started to scream in pain as the flames burned further up his legs and reached his torso.

When the flames started to cover his neck the black flames engulfing Sir's hands launched forward, they collided with the mercenary and created a large explosion. It was impossible to see a body inside the massive swirls of black and red. The ground started to shake as the fire grew and grew, the heat was so intense any sweat that came from the three men quickly evaporated.

Soon the flames ceased and the ground was blackened. Where the mercenary stood was a large dark figure. Just looking at him gave the fear of death and pain. The figure was wearing plate armor, as black as the flames used in the ritual. Besides the armor the man wore a red hooded shirt, it reached down to midway to his chest and covered his arms up to the wrists. Lashed to his side were two masks, identical to the one he was currently wearing.

The man stood there for a moment, not making a sound or a movement. The cultists were still trembling in fear at the figure, they had no idea how to react to him. The man turned his head toward them. Before they could say or do anything the man suddenly appeared in front of them, he grabbed both by their necks and slammed them into the wall. They could just look into his yellow eyes as he broke their necks and dropped their bodies to the floor.

"Ah, that's just what I needed to get these new joints working." The dark man's voice was deep with evil, the voice sounded more fitting for the foulest demon then a man.

He turned to the figure of Sir, he was kneeling before him looking up to the man. When Sir finally found his voice he spoke.

"Sire, I never believed that I would live to see this day, the day of your dark return." The hooded man walked towards him, running his fingers across the surface of the mask he was wearing.

"You did well, cultist." He started to run a finger around the spot his mouth would be. "While I had grown used to the repaired damages of that old mask, I am glad you decided not to include them." Sir kept his gaze on his master, a smile reaching across his face.

"Yes master, I wanted it to be in its best condition. I am sorry for how long it took to revive you though, it wasn't easy, but we managed."

"Oh yes, I am very proud that my followers have shown so much loyalty to me. You will be rewarded well in the Void." The man picked up a cutlass one of the mercenaries dropped and held it over Sir's kneeling form.

"Thank you master." was all he said before the man cut him down, Sir's face was frozen in a look of awe.

The man placed the cutlass on his back and started to look at his surroundings. He made his way down one of the hallways, it lead to a small room filled with shelves of books.

"Hmm, lets see what I've missed over the years." The man sat at a table piled with books and began thumbing through them one at a time, scoffing at the errors writers had made about his own history and that fool who bested him all those years ago. After just a few minutes he had looked over dozens of books. He was taking a particularly long time with his current book however, it was entitled "The History of the Guild". After a while with the book he looked at one chapter that caused him to chuckle uncontrollably.

"To think, all those times I've wanted to destroy that blasted Guild, they end up getting beaten by the people they were supposed to protect." He let out a smaller chuckle and began looking over another book. The book was a biography about the lands current hero, Sparrow was his name, the man couldn't believe how the people loved this hero for his minimal accomplishments. Nothing compared to all the heroes he used to defeat.

After he was about to finish the book, he jerked his head from the pages and looked about the room. He sniff the air around him, taking in whatever scent he has detected, he stares off at the nothingness and his eyes intensify.

"That sent… such familiar blood… could it be?" The masked man stood from the table and walked out of the chamber.

**A/N: All right the first chapters done, hopefully Ill be able to work on the others soon. Though with Fable 3 out soon Ill be a bit occupied with that, but be patient and give up some good reviews and I may be motivated to get them up sooner.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: All right, after having my fun (and disappointment) with Fable 3, I'm glad I can start working on this again.**

**Chapter: 2**

The town of Oakfield was going about its daily routines. Farmers were tending to their crops, children ran from fields to streets, the monks were praying, and guards made their rounds. Only one thing broke the rut that everyone seemed to be in.

It was near the Sandgoose, the town's Inn, a small group of villagers stood outside listening to the soft melody of a lute playing. The man playing the lute was sitting down on the base of the town's prized statue. He was in his late thirties, with short black hair and wore a highwayman's coat colored a darker brown, and his signature witch spotter's hat sat upon his head.

Everyone knew who this man was, the famed hero Lionheart. The hero who had stopped Lucien from destroying the world with the power of the Tattered Spire, the hero who had selflessly chosen to bring back the innocents who had died at the Spire rather then help himself.

A few years had passed since that night. Now without the need of a hero, more and more people saw the hero, not as Lionheart, but by his true name, Sparrow.

Sparrow was glad that the local shop had a lute in stock when he came to town, it provided time consuming entertainment while he waited for his friends to arrive. He kept on playing, the people still enjoying the sounds he could create. Even Roland the bard didn't mind the competition as he sat at a nearby bench rocking his head to keep with the rhythm.

After a while Sparrow came to a finish, the villagers gave a warming smile and began to leave. A few children lingered asking for stories and autographs, in response he handed the closest one the lute he was holding, he didn't need the extra weight for traveling anyway. The children left, all wanting to hold the lute that seemed to turn to gold at the touch of a hero, a moment later Sparrow stood up and looked at the statue he was previously sitting on.

In all honesty, Sparrow detested the old thing, he only had it made years ago to get in good favor with the Abbot. He would have had it removed long ago, but the town treasured it with pride.

"Any idea where James is boy?" Sparrow looked down at his faithful canine, who was currently laying down at the statue. The dog looked up to his master as if to answer but obviously said nothing. Though it was still midday, his friend was supposed to meet him hours ago. Just then he heard his name being called from a distance, he turnrf his gaze down the road and saw a young man waving his hand and running towards them.

"Speak of the devil." Sparrow chuckled to himself and walked forward towards his friend, his dog running past to reach him first. The dog charged James, almost knocking him over in an attack of licks and jumping.

Sparrow and James had been friends for years, they met at the Bowerstone Inn shortly after Sparrow had seen Hammer when he returned from his ten year trip at the Spire. Sparrow was still trying to get over what had happened during his stay, while waiting for the news on the hero of Skill. James had decided to keep him company. Though at the time Sparrow wasn't the friendliest person, but he did need someone to talk to. They soon became the best of friends, while he did consider Hammer and Garth close friends, it was nice to know a non hero.

James looked the same way he acted, a typical young slacker. Though his short naturally white hair made him look older, he was only in his mid twenties. His clothing was a more modern look that easily set him apart from the farmers of Oakfield.

"So you finally decided to join us?" Sparrow asked. James was pushing the dog off him and looked at Sparrow.

"Ya sorry, overslept." He said it like it was a first time thing which just made Sparrow chuckle even more. "What can I say? Those damn chickens can't tell time. I think it's that Demon Door, probably messes with their heads or something." Sparrow thought about it for a moment.

"Your probably right, they were there when I found the place, who knows how long they've been there or what's happened to them." They both exchanged laughs and sat down at the nearby bench, watching as farmers and shop keepers walked by with a wave and hello. "If you really don't like the place, I'm sure I can find a vacant house for you that's not inside a magical doorway." James paused to consider it but shook his head.

"Nah, I'm still appreciative for you giving me that old house in the first place. Besides, I feel proud being able to live in the same place heroes used to back in the old times." They both just sat there enjoying the cool breeze and watching the children play, but after a while James was noticeably restless. "So, when's Hannah supposed to be here again?"

"She never really gave an exact time just said she should be arriving by coach today." Though Sparrow had his doubts about what time that actually would be. But he really didn't care, he would wait all day for his old friend if he had to. He had gotten Hannah's letter a few days ago, she was taking a vacation from the northern monk temple and would meet them in Oakfield.

After a few more minutes James began to tap his feet and groan in obvious boredom. Sparrow just sat there shaking his head, but after a while of it he began getting agitated.

"You know, you don't have to wait with me, I can come and get you when Hannah arrives." Sparrow didn't try hiding the annoyance in his voice, James just looked back at him with a smirk.

"Its not like I have anything better to do but bother you, you should know that after all these years." It was Sparrow's turn to show a smirk, how someone like James fit into this world he never knew.

"You really need to find a girl James," Sparrow replied with a chuckle. Though he knew James had a good record with the ladies, he never really lasted long with any of them, reminded him of an old pirate he used to run with.

"I'd say I still have a few more years before I need to worry about commitments, just because you tied yourself down doesn't mean we all have to follow your example. Speaking of which, how has Alex been doing?"

"Not too bad, she asks about you a lot, wondering why you don't visit as often. I usually just tell her your busy sleeping or arguing with the local Demon Door." James started to laugh, partly because it was true.

"Well for being made of stone he does put up one good debate." For a time the two friends talked and told stories to each other while waiting for the guest of the hour. More time passed and the sun began to lower, while there was still plenty of daylight, the day wouldn't last much longer.

"Hmm, maybe she got delayed, I suppose I'll have to take a room at the Inn." Sparrow got up and began walking towards the Inn to reserve his room, with James following behind. Sparrow stops suddenly as a deep chill ran down his spine, the hairs on his neck were standing straight up. When James immediately ran into him, he was snapped out of his trance.

"What the hell was what for?" Sparrow didn't hear the question but raised his hand to silence him. He looked down and saw his dog was growling, he could sense something that moment Sparrow grabbed James at the waist and threw him a distance away, he barley had time to run himself when a large flash of dark red lightning struck the ground they were just standing on.

A large crater was in its place, Sparrow frantically looked around trying to find the source of the attack. Another flash occurred and the statue of Sparrow exploded into hundreds of pieces. A bit of the statue struck Sparrow between the eyes, his vision blurred, he could only make out the outlines of villagers as they panicked and ran off to their homes and to the village exits. As his eyes adjusted he could see James staring at him wide eyed, they both stood up and Sparrow grabbed onto his shoulders.

"James, find as many people as you can, take them to Serenity Farm and stay hidden behind that Demon door. Do not come out for anything until it's safe." James looked reluctant to leave his friend behind but nodded and ran off to find everyone. A third flash came and struck a tree, splitting it in half.

Sparrow pulled out his Red Dragon pistol and walked towards the Sandgoose, the chill returned as he shifted his gaze around the area. No new attacks came as he circled the road outside the Inn, but he could feel a seething glare on him.

"My my, quite jumpy for a hero aren't you." A demonic voice sounded near the building, Sparrow spun around and pointed his gun at a dark figure sitting on the roof, a white mask peering in his direction. Just looking at this person filled the hero with dread and despair.

"Who are you and why are you here?" Sparrow tried sounding as authoritive as possible but he knew there was a slight tremble in his voice, the masked man could see it too.

"Tell me hero," the man spat out the last word with loathing, "what does it feel like to be a dieing breed? Can you see how empty this world is without your kind?" Sparrow noticed he was gritting his teeth, this man was getting to the hero. He thought about what the figure had said but shrugged it off.

"I never knew a world filled with heroes, maybe if I did I may have cared but that's not the case. I know others like myself, they are all I need, and with them we bring back the old ways of heroes." He kept his gun pointed towards the man, he needed to wait for the right moment. The masked man just laughed at him, sending another shiver down the hero's spine.

"The old ways you say, you're a fool if you think you can measure up to the past heroes. The power they held would put yours to shame, their accomplishments would make yours look like nothing. What have you done besides kill a crazy old fool?" Sparrow's anger had risen and he pulled the trigger to his gun. The shot sped towards the man with all the speed and power the hero could put into it.

The man had just stood there as the bullet moved towards him, just as he was about to be struck he jumped from were he was sitting to another portion of the roof. Sparrow didn't even see him make a move, his speed was impossible to spot. A chuckle came from the man as he looked down at the surprised hero.

"I must say, that shot was impressive for someone in your position," he started to chuckle at him again which made Sparrow even more furious, "but you will have to do better then that against me. Let me show you what true power can do."

Just then the town's local Game master, who was cowering inside of the Inn, came out of his hiding place and started to run away from the two figures. The masked man took a look at him and held out his hand, it started to glow red and the Game master stopped in his tracks. He screamed in terror as he was held in place, clutching at his head at an unseen pain.

"Stop this! Let him go!" It was all Sparrow could think to do as he watched in horror as blood started to drip from the Game master's body. The masked man quickly clenched his fist and the Game master was torn apart in an explosion of blood. Only a pool of blood, pieces of ripped flesh, and shreds of clothing were left of him.

Sparrow was trembling, he wanted to scream but found no sound. Then he heard it, the sadistic laughter of the masked man, all of Sparrow's terror was replaced with anger. Stretching out his arms he concentrated on putting all his Will energies into a spell. Flames circled around his arms and followed his Will lines as they moved towards his hands, as he charged his attack the man stopped his laughter to watch in awe.

Sparrow forced his rage into the spell as the flames grew larger, when the flames reached their full power he focused the blast on the man, with a throw of his arms he sent the two balls of flame towards him.

The man immediately leapt from his position while the Will spell decimated the roof he was just sitting on. He landed on the ground, a small distance away from Sparrow. Looking into the mask, Sparrow could only see the dark yellow eyes as they moved up and down as if studying him.

"Well well, such power over the three hero attributes, you certainly are of Black's kin." He gave another soft chuckle as he stared at Sparrow. "Though you could never match the power of your ancestors, I am not one to repeat the same mistakes twice and underestimate that cursed bloodline."

The man reached for the cutlass across his back and walked towards Sparrow, in a flash the hero unsheathed his Daichi katana and prepared to strike at the man. They both stood there for a moment, shifting stances as the eyed their weapons. Sparrow was considered one of the greatest swordsman in Albion, certainly he could defeat this stranger using such a poor weapon.

Sparrow jumped towards the man, bringing down his katana as hard as he could. The man easily blocked the attack and countered, cutting him across the hip. Sparrow staggered for a moment but held his ground, he kept swinging his blade at the man who would parry every blow. Sparrow couldn't believe it, the man was so agile and fast, even with the armor he wore.

Soon Sparrow was trying his best to block the attacks made by the man, they were strong furious swings that almost forced the hero to his knees just to stop them. Sparrow was tiring, his swings were growing slower and less powerful, but the masked man showed no signs of stopping.

Sparrow felt himself being pushed backward, he soon shifted his gaze behind him to see the town's river cornering him. In desperation, he put all his strength into a swing, trying to shatter the man's cutlass, it was quickly blocked and held in place.

The man quickly spun his blade outward, disarming Sparrow and sending his katana flying through the air. Before he could react the masked man drove the cutlass into his chest. He tried gasping for air but couldn't, looking down at the blade he could see it piercing near his heart. His body went limp while the blade kept him standing. "The Archon's blood is wasted on you." Sparrow looked into the eyes of the man, he could see pure hatred. He used the last of his strength trying to pull the blade from his chest, his arm dropped as he slipped in and out of consciousness. Suddenly he felt a sharp thud against his stomach as the man's armor clad foot kicked him off of the cutlass, sending the hero's body into the river.

The last thing Sparrow saw, before slipping into darkness, was the water washing over his face as the current took him away from the village.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter: 3**

Deep in the Temple of Shadows a dark vortex opened from thin air. Out stepped the red hooded man wearing a white mask, with his first step from the vortex he staggered, falling over on his hands he took several deep breaths. After a moment he stood up letting out a low growl.

He was weak, the ritual hadn't fully returned his power, what he had was used during the confrontation with the hero. He took several more deep breathes and pondered what his next course of action would be.

The man needed to prepare, the state the world was in would never allow him in their good graces. He would have to find other ways to bend it to it's knees.

Walking back to the Temple's library, the man sat down to rest. While deep in thought, he began to tap his finger across the table's hard surface. Minutes later, he could feel some of his power return. Reaching his hand forward he pointed it down towards the floor, a small spark shot from a single fingertip and settled slowly onto the ground. In an instant the spark enlarged to form a new vortex that split off into many more, covering the floor in a blanket of darkness.

From each vortex a large stone hand sprouted upward, it grabbed onto the edge of the floor and pulled itself out. The creatures emerging from the black holes stood tall with a hunched back. They were fully covered in stone armor, decorated in rust colored designs, the helm of the armor were of a snarling jackal. Each creature held a long double bladed staff that glowed with an eerie red mist.

At first, while they emerged, they snarled in anger. Feeling the presence of someone, they prepared to attack, but as soon as they laid eyes on the masked man they immediately halted and knelt before him.

The man stood over them, looking from creature to creature.

"Minions, it has been many years since your master has called for you. The world around us has changed, the heroes are gone, their guild is destroyed, and the people are weak. Now it is time for me to take back Albion, you will be my instruments of death and devastation." Loud approving grunts are all the Minions replied with as they awaited orders from their master.

"Search this decrepit temple for dark artifacts, salvage all you can and bring it back to me." He pointed towards the exit of the chamber and, without hesitation, the Minions marched out, separated into smaller groups and entered the other chambers.

The masked man sat down again, continuing his earlier tapping against the table. He needed a plan. With no sword or ancient gate, he did not know how he would conquer Albion. Even at his full power, victory was not absolute. There was only no record of more heroes, that was no definite that there weren't others. Possible children of the hero he had just killed, or even long lost descendants that knew nothing of their power. He had made the mistake of ignoring the notion a long time ago, he wouldn't make it again.

A deep sigh came from the man, he knew what he would have to do, but he didn't like it. He needed to bring back the Court, with their combined power, no hero would stand against him.

The man reached down to his chest and pulled off one of the masks latched onto it. It was almost identical to his own, but the differences were easily visible. The chin of the mask was larger and more broad. Long red triangles lined near one eye, small purple symbols decorated the other side. The most notable feature was near the mouth of the mask. A large frown was stitched across it from one side to the other.

He looked at the mask, the empty eyes looked back. The man let out another, longer, sigh.

"Oh Knight, you strong single-minded fool. Only the right blood will work for you, but whose blood is that?" Just then a passage from a book he had read earlier formed in his mind. He quickly placed the mask on the table and reached for the book. It was the biography of the hero he killed, flipping through the pages he found what he was looking for.

'And so, with the defeat of Lucien's soldier and the death of the Abbot, Sparrow had accomplished his goal and recruited the first hero. The hero of Strength, Hannah, now being known as Hammer. Though she did not look like much, with her trusted hammer in her hands she could destroy any obstacle in her way with great power.'

After reading the passage, the man closed the book and set it down with the others. He grabbed the mask and placed it back on his chest.

"An acceptable candidate, don't worry brother you will soon be back to the waking world. But before then, other preparations must be made to ensure everything plays out in my favor."

**A/N: Chapter is a lot shorter then the others but they'll get bigger and hopefully better. If you've enjoyed everything so far make a review, need some motivation juice pumping to help get this stuff made faster.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Chapter took a bit longer then I wanted, but I spent some time to fix some errors in the previous ones plus Iv been having less time to actually work on this. Still hoping people are enjoying this so far, make sure you review to keep motivation up and point out errors (I'm sure there will be)**

**Chapter: 4**

Death is a strange thing, even after seeing it so many times, it is always different. Sparrow slowly opened his eyes to see nothing but white emptiness, he was laying on his back looking upward. With no idea were he was, Sparrow decided to stay on his back and wait for anything. The hero had no idea how much time passed but he didn't care, figuring that when dead, time had no meaning anyway.

Just as he was about to close his eyes to drift off again, he heard soft footsteps in front of him. He sat up and looked to see what made the sound. He was greeted with an angelic voice that he hadn't heard in years.

"So, little Sparrow, you finally decided to wake up." Sparrow saw a figure approaching from the blank surroundings. It was a young girl, wearing dirty rags for clothing and pig tails in her hair. Seeing the girl brought a stream of tears to the hero's eyes, it was his dead sister, Rose.

Sparrow couldn't move, he was frozen in disbelief . When she was standing over him he looked into her eyes, it really was Rose. He got onto his knees and quickly grabbed her in a hug. They both stayed there, Sparrow didn't want to let go out of fear he would lose her again. After a time, Rose slowly pushed the hero off of her and he stood up.

"Rose." Sparrow was chocking on her name, still filled with emotion. Rose looked at him with a large smile.

"I'm so proud of you little brother, you have done so much for so many people. You never lost hope and you defeated Lucien. Who would have thought you were a hero." What she said made Sparrow realize where he was and what happened to him.

"Rose, I've missed you so much, your death haunted me for so many years, but now we are together again." Rose's smile faded into a frown, she turned away from him for a moment then looked back into his eyes.

"I'm sorry Sparrow, you shouldn't feel bad about what happened. Death isn't that bad, there are no worries here, no sorrows. I even get to see Mom and Dad again, they wish they could see you now too, but only I am allowed." A flicker of a smile appeared on Sparrows face but soon disappeared after his sister was done.

"What do you mean?"

"We both are only here so I can tell you this. The world will soon be under attack by an ancient evil, it is powerful, no other hero has ever had to face a threat like this. You need to stop it or else all is lost, you have seen a demonstration of this power with that masked man. Believe me brother, what you saw is nothing compared to what will happen." What Rose said fully hit Sparrow, that seeing his sister wouldn't last.

"No, please no Rose." He fell to his knees in front of her, more tears formed in his eyes. "It has been too long, please don't tell me I have to leave you again." She raised him to his feet and gave him a long hug, she looked up to him and gave a smile.

"Do not worry brother, I'm not going anywhere and its not your time yet. You must go and be a hero again, save everyone from the evil and live your life to the fullest. Goodbye for now little Sparrow." Rose pressed her hand against his chest near his heart. They both stood there for a moment, looking into the vastness of each other's eyes.

Then Sparrow felt a powerful push against his chest and was knocked onto his back. His sister was looking over him, mouthing the word 'Goodbye'. He closed his eyes tight from the pain and felt a sinking feeling wash over him. Sparrow opened his eyes again, he saw someone looking over him, it wasn't his sister this time. It was a much older woman, about his own age, with long red hair tied at the top.

"So the lazy hero decided to finally wake up." A smile formed across her face, but Sparrow didn't care. He wanted to just lay there, the joy of seeing his sister again and the sadness of having it taken away had left him feeling hollow inside. Soon he felt a hand grip his shoulder and yank him into a sitting position.

"What's the big idea?" The annoyance in his voice was evident. In his new position he could see the woman more clearly. She stood tall, large muscles came across her arms. She wore white robes that reached her knees, belts went around her waist and chest, on her hands and feet were matching strapped boots and gloves, and there was armor plating going up and down her left arm.

"Are you serious? Only a few years and you completely forget about me?" With her hands at her hips, she made a pouting face. Sparrow looked down and saw a large stone hammer laying near her feet, it soon registered to him who the woman was.

"Hannah?" A look of displeasure replaced the pout on the woman's face.

"I thought you understood that I am to be called Hammer now." Sparrow just laughed in response, earning a quick glare from the warrior monk.

"You still go by that? I figured you would want to change back from your hero name, I went back to mine." He looked around at where he was, he was sitting on a large blanket, a few supplies dotted the area. His own bag was next to him along with his coat, hat, and pistol. The surrounding area seemed to be a forest, large trees circled around them.

"So, Hammer, what happened and where are we?" Sparrow attempted to stand up but the pain in his chest caused him to stop and groan. She gave him a worried look as he opened his shirt and saw the bandaged wound.

"Id like to know that myself Sparrow. I came to Oakfield and saw what appeared to be an attack. When I met up with James he said something had happened and you were gone, I went searching for you. After a few hours I ran into your dog who lead me down the river to where you were. You had a large cut through your chest, consider yourself lucky, it barley missed your heart." He slowly opened the bandages and looked at the wound, Sparrow could see that the cut was only inches away. A chill ran across his back when he noticed how the cut went through the old scar he had there. The small circular scar that was left by Lucien when he had shot him, twice.

"I doubt its luck, I think Death just has a sick sense of humor." Hammer gave a light laugh, not knowing if she was supposed to or not.

"As for where we are, its Brightwood. I'm not sure how deep we are though, we never needed to go this far." Hammer sat down next to Sparrow, he closed his shirt and began telling her what happened in Oakfield. Even the powerful Hero of Strength seemed to be scared as he described the masked man. After he was done Sparrow could hear a familiar bark nearby as his dog ran up to them, he licked his master first before turning to Hammer and attacked her as well. She was overjoyed to see her favorite animal.

"Hey boy, your finally back, I'm sure you've missed your master. Wow Sparrow, I cant believe how much he looks like your old dog." He grinned at her, he had forgotten about writing to her about his dog.

"Well Hammer, that's because he is that dog." Her smile disappeared into a questioning look.

"What? How can that be, Lucien shot him didn't he?"

"He did, and yes he died that night, but weeks after the Spire incident I received word of an ancient tomb on the island of Knothole." He then told her the story of how he went to the crypt of Cheet-ur, a strange man who valued the lives of dogs over people. While the crypt didn't hold the body of Cheet-ur himself, it did contain the ability to resurrect any dog with the sacrifice of a human. Though the idea to have his long lost friend back was wonderful to the hero, he couldn't bring himself to sacrifice an innocent. An idea had hit him, he ran from the village and out into the wilderness, he eventually ran into a large group of Hollow Men. Quickly dispatching the living corpses, Sparrow left one alive, he shot both of it's arms off and dragged it to the crypt. Throwing it into the tomb, he shut the doors on it and waited, after a large flash the doors reopened and out ran his beloved canine. When Sparrow was finished, Hammer began to laugh.

"So it sounds like you cheated Cheet-ur." It took him a moment to realize the joke and began to laugh himself, stopping suddenly as the pain in his chest grew. Hammer gave him a worried look but a reassuring smile from him helped her.

"Well, now that we know I'm not dead, we should get out of this forest."

"So what do you think we should do? I think Oakfield will need us now, but I'm worried about letting a madman go without chasing after him." It didn't take long for Sparrow to figure out the answer.

"I don't think we need to worry about the masked man for the time being, we have no idea who he is or what he will be up to. We will have to wait for a sign from either him or Theresa, if she sees it necessary. As for Oakfield, we will head there and see what we can do to help. But first, we will need to head to Bowerstone, if we don't get there soon then I might as well of died in the river since Alex will kill me herself." Sparrow attempted to get up, pushing past the pain blazing in his chest while letting out groans to match. Halfway through Hammer pushed him back down hard, while he gave her a dirty look, she was rummaging through her bag eventually pulling out a small glass bottle.

"Here," she said while handing him the bottle, "special medicine from the monks, it wont really heal you but it will numb the pain enough for you to at least walk, we would use it after sparing matches." Sparrow opened the bottle and smelt the contents, he took a small sip but quickly spat it out and made chocking noises over the foul liquid. Hammer gave a simple giggle and smirk to him while he just glared in response, he forced the rest of it down his throat. Almost immediately he felt the pain in his chest ease and he could easily stand.

"Well I suppose we should get going now if we are to make it to Bowerstone before nightfall." Upon hearing this Hammer gave a loud laugh.

"Maybe you should rest some more Sparrow, if you think we can cover that distance in just a few hours. We are after all, deep in Brightwood, that alone will probably take three days to find our way out." Sparrow copied her laugh while he put on his clothing and bag.

"Don't worry, I have my own means of travel." He tapped a finger against a symbol he had tied to the center of his belt with a smile, it was the guild seal Theresa had given him the day he became a hero. His dog instinctively placed his paws on Sparrow's feet and sat there while the hero held out his hand to Hammer. She picked up her own items and hesitantly grabbed his hand. Sparrow placed his free hand on the seal and a bright blue light swirled around and engulfed the three figures.

**A/N: I had planned to make this chapter longer but with the delayed time Iv had with updating, I figured this would be a good stop for the chapter.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: All right more chapters! ( and mistakes ) Enjoy.**

**Chapter: 5**

A bright blue flash occurred and the figures of Sparrow, Hammer and the hero's faithful dog appeared. Hammer took a step forward and rubbed her arms as if in a cold, she looked around and saw they were atop Hero Hill in Bower Lake.

"Wh-what was that?" Her voice was shaking from the shock. An annoying laugh from the hero was his first response.

"The seal," he pointed down to his belt, "they were used by heroes long ago to teleport to Cullis Gates they had previously visited, found out about it after Lucien died, sadly."

"Well that's handy, it certainly shaved a few days off our trip." She got over her previous chills and the three trotted off to reach Bowerstone. During the trip, the two heroes talked over what had happened in the years after the Spire, Hammer constantly changing subject to comment on the lack of bandits that attacked them. Sparrow just smirked and gave pointless ideas as to the reason, not wanting to brag about his accomplishments against the criminals.

After a few hours they reached Bowerstone, Sparrow kept his ears open to see if rumors about the Oakfield attack had reached the people yet. They stopped at the medicine merchant for Sparrow's chest and kept on their path to Old Town, the people they passed all giving warm greetings.

They approached Sparrow's home, a large two story building. He slowly approached the door to open it, the moment his hand touched it, the door swung open and a young woman stood in its place.

She was tall, thin, and wore a fine grey and blue outfit, her long blonde hair was tied down under the blue hat she wore. It was Sparrow's wife, who he had met during his journeys against Lucien and married shortly after they were over.

"Alex." Sparrow said, while walking towards her, holding his arms out to hug her. He was suddenly stopped when a painful slap went across his cheek, his wife's face had a fierce look of anger that could intimidate the hero more then any monster or bandit could.

"How dare you!" She shouted, giving him another slap on the opposite side. "Do you have any idea how worried you made me? Hearing about what happened in Oakfield and you not returning home!" Tears rolled down her face as she leaned against his chest, Sparrow held her head up to calm her.

"Don't worry Alex." He spoke in his most soothing voice. "Remember, you married a hero, it will take a lot more then that to make me not come home." She grabbed him in a tight hug, causing the hero to wince and groan from the pain. Alex looked at him and opened his shirt, gasping when she saw the bandages. "I'll explain in a second." She nodded and they walked into the house, Sparrow gestured for Hammer to follow.

They made it inside and Alex was startled when she saw Hammer behind them, not realizing that she was there or who she was. Sparrow quickly introduced her and Alex looked her over.

"So you are the friend my Sparrow has told me so much about, it is good to meet you."

"Likewise." Hammer replied, earning a surprised look from Alex who was expecting a less polite reply. They sat down and Sparrow told his wife what had happened in Oakfield, sparing her the more gory details. Although she was still shocked about his close call to death, she seemed to understand quickly and didn't bother him about it any further.

After a small dinner the three went to bed, Sparrow and Alex gladly gave up their bed so the much larger Hammer could sleep easy, while Alex took the smaller spare and Sparrow slept on the floor. That night wasn't easy for the hero, he had horrific nightmares of the masked man destroying everything in his path.

Morning finally came and Sparrow stiffly rose from his sheets. The night was hard on the hero but he quickly made breakfast for everyone as they awoke and they ate silently. After they ate, Sparrow and Hammer discussed what they would do about Oakfield. They decided to leave for Oakfield early and help the villagers anyway they could, Sparrow gave Alex a kiss goodbye and they left. The journey there was as easy as the one to Bowerstone, not a single bandit or monster bothered them. When they reached the town they were greeted by an ecstatic James, who was happy to see his friend was all right.

Almost suddenly Sparrow's furry friend barked madly and ran off towards the forested outskirts of the town, after a long chase they found what he had sniffed out. It was Sparrow's Daichi that he had lost during the fight with the masked man, he gave his dog a long scratch in appreciation and sheathed his favorite weapon. He felt more himself with the blade returned.

The next few days were spent with Hammer and James helping to repair the damages from the attack while Sparrow, after much pleading from the townspeople, posed for a new statue that would be placed where the old one was. They rested at the Sandgoose, but each night was spent like the last, horrible nightmares filling Sparrow's sleep.

Each nightmare was blurred to him but he could still make out powerful details. He would be falling into darkness, seeing nothing around him, he would then pass by a screaming figure. The figure grabbed at their face and thrashed wildly. Other times Sparrow saw a small child, he was cowering in fear at a small group of Balverines, suddenly more figures would appear and the Balverines would fall along with two of the figures. The most reoccurring nightmare was of a powerful looking man fighting furiously at three figures around him, destroying each before the man fell to his knees as his body crumpled into bones.

Soon the repairs and the new statue were finished, Sparrow and Hammer gave their farewells to the villagers and left, James had decided to come along too and visit. During the trip back they spoke with any travelers they came across to see if any new attacks by the masked man occurred, they found nothing. Alex was happy to have Sparrow back home with nothing to keep him away.

A few days had passed with their lives growing more mundane. Still not hearing anything on the masked man, they figured his threat was gone. One day Sparrow and James left the house, James went off to do a quick job for the local blacksmith and Sparrow had to restock their food supplies. It was just Hammer and Alex at the house, but rather then get to know each other, they spent the time in awkward silence. Only a few times did one of them try to make a conversation, but it would only last a few words.

As the silence between them grew a sudden banging against the front door caused them both to jump. Alex approached the door, each step growing more hesitant for a reason she did not know. When she began opening the door it was forced open and a tall figure in black armor stormed in. Both Hammer and Alex instantly knew who he was, the masked man Sparrow had spoken of. Alex was frozen in fear at him, blocking his path further into the house, in annoyance he raised his hand and struck her away. His eyes fixed onto Hammer.

"Why hello, hero." He spat out the last word with the same amount of hatred he did with Sparrow. "It took me quite a bit time to find your location, sadly for you, it means your immediate end."

Hammer grabbed her weapon and charged forward at him. She swung her hammer down hard but only landed on the house's floor, crushing the wooden planks. The man was behind her now, she turned quickly to attempt another attack but a quick punch to her chest sent her flying. Hammer went through the front windows of the house and landed on the streets outside, the remaining villagers that lingered on the streets ran away screaming.

The masked man climbed outside through the hole he had created. He pulled out his cutlass and slowly approached Hammer, who was recovering from the impact of her crash. She slowly got up and glared at him, she was amazed at the power he had. The masked man just laughed at her.

"Hero of Strength indeed, your reflexes are that of a corpse and your strength is no more then a child's. It's a shame how heroes now give no real challenge." Hammer grabbed for her hammer to charge again but the masked man had greater speed and swung his sword, cutting her across the chest. She made loud gasps from the pain and knew she couldn't win this fight.

Hammer attempted to run but was soon frozen in place when the masked man raised his hand and she was held in place by dark magic, he let out another laugh and raised his sword to finish her. He was about to bring it down on her before a loud yell broke his concentration and James jumped towards him grabbing for the blade. The masked man just grabbed him by the throat and tossed him aside like trash.

"Hammer, no!" James yelled as the feeling of helplessness came down on both him and Hammer. The masked man raised his sword high again and brought it down. Just as the sword was about to strike her a loud shot was heard and the cutlass was blown from his hands, landing a short distance away.

The masked man let out a deep growl and looked down the street to see Sparrow, his smoking gun was still pointed toward him, different vegetables and meats were laying around at his feet.

"How impressive, I didn't expect for you to still be alive. I suppose it's that stubborn blood of yours, never knows when to die." He made another mocking laugh, showing obvious amusement. Alex appeared from the house and ran towards Sparrow, giving him a large hug. He noticed the mark across her face and his look changed into anger as his eyes pierced into the masked man's.

"You desecrate my home, attack my wife, and try to kill my friends, you will _not _get away with this!" He continued his laughing, raising Sparrow's already peaked anger.

"What will you do, hero? Don't forget the outcome of our last confrontation. But if your so eager to die, try your best shot." As he continued his mocking of the hero, Sparrow formed a plan. He lightly pushed Alex aside and held his hands outward. The air around him sparked and crackled with Will energy, blue streaks of electricity swirled down his arms as the shock spell formed in his hands. He put all his concentration on his target, he had only one try.

Feeling the spell reach its full power, he threw his hands forward and sent the spell flying towards the masked man, who didn't bother to move out of its way. The spell hit full force against him and immediately showed no signs of penetrating through his armor. Sparrow saw an opening and forced the finale strand of electricity upward to strike at the only possible weak spot, the eyeholes of the man's mask.

The masked man was pushed backwards, holding both his hands against his face while roaring in pain. Sparrow saw the opportunity and charged forward, he grabbed onto Hammer's weapon along the way. Stopping in front of the masked man, he held the hammer back and swung it, the blow landed against the center of his chest and flung him into the side of a nearby building. A cloud of dust and debris covered him, the dust soon settled and the masked man's form could be seen still holding his hand against his damaged eye. His other eye held an intensity of fury the hero had never seen from anyone before.

"Contemptible whelp, you will pay for this insult! But not now, I have what I came for." The masked man picked his cutlass up off the ground, drops of Hammer's blood still falling from it, he held a small crystal vial below the blade and caught a few drops. "When next we meet, you will learn what true pain is." Putting the weapon and vial away he formed a new vortex and disappeared inside, Sparrow charged after him but the portal closed before he could make it.

"Coward!" The hero screamed, his anger had not yet subsided. He soon remembered about Hammer and ran to her side. She was still bleeding but Sparrow was happy to see the cut wasn't deep enough to be fatal."Sorry Sparrow," a look of disappointment crossed her face, "I wish I could have helped with that monster." A chuckle from Sparrow caused a glare from the wounded hero.

"Don't worry, from the sound of it, we haven't seen the last of him." He glanced toward James and his wife. "I'm just glad you all are ok." Then Sparrow heard the voice of someone he hadn't heard from in years.

"Yes, I am also delighted to see that you are all fine." Just then a bright flash of white and blue occurred and a figure stood before them.

**A/N: DUN DUN DUN cliffhanger… *cough* Still hope people are enjoying this so far, even though it seems to take longer and longer to update. Though I really feel this chapter isn't as good as others, feels like a lot is wrong with it. But as usual enjoy and review, next chapter shouldn't take a long time to make. Hopefully…. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter: 6**

Sparrow couldn't believe his eyes as an old woman stood before them, she wore a red and white hooded dress and had blank white eyes that gave an illusion of being blind. She was Theresa, the gypsy who had taken care of Sparrow as a child and during his struggles against Lucien. The last the hero had seen of her was only months after he defeated the madman, she gave him a vision of the future and then sent him away.

Theresa gave her usual small smile and approached the wounded Hammer, she placed her hand over the wound across her chest and miraculously the blood dried and the cut shrunk until only a small scar remained.

"But how…" Hammer didn't know what to say. Theresa just stood over her, still smiling.

"The Spire has given me much," she turned her head toward Sparrow, "Sparrow has seen a pinch of that gift. But now is not the time to discuss that, you both should know why I'm here." Sparrow and Hammer both nodded. "Well then, I will give you some time to prepare yourselves. Say your farewells now, you may not have another chance until this is over."

Hammer didn't need any time for farewells so she stood beside Theresa as Sparrow and Alex said goodbye to each other. Alex was visibly saddened, not knowing what it would be like to have to wait to see her husband again. Sparrow quickly cheered her up with a passionate kiss, Hammer watched as the two lovers embraced each other. A strange feeling crept over the warrior monk. She felt somewhat jealous of them, not having anyone herself to share such feelings with.

A hand was placed on her shoulder and she turned to see Theresa. Though she wasn't looking at her, it was obvious the old gypsy was acknowledging the monk.

"Don't worry Hammer, love is the most unpredictable of emotions, you never know when it will come or when it will leave." It surprised the hero to see Theresa understand her so quickly. As Sparrow and Alex finished James approached them and said his goodbyes to the hero and his wife. James then left for Oakfield, saying goodbye to Hammer and Theresa along the way.

Seeing that farewells were over, Theresa held her hands out to both heroes, they grabbed on and instantly disappeared in a flash of blue light.

The same blue light appeared again and the three humans, and one dog, stepped forward. Sparrow looked about his location with a smile, it was the Chamber of Fate. Old memories filled the hero's mind as he saw the ruined chamber. The Sanctuary hadn't changed a bit, except for the increased number of spider webs.

Sparrow's joy quickly decreased when he saw the serious look on Theresa's face.

"Now is not the time for nostalgia Sparrow, we have much to discuss about your dear friend in the mask." The tone of her voice was unlike anything Sparrow had heard from her, it was uncharacteristically stern and serious. Though everyone else had slightly changed over the years after Lucien was defeated, maybe she did too.

"He is not my friend," Sparrow said through clenched teeth.

"Good," she replied, her usual smile returned for a moment but changed back. "You may have many questions about who, or what, this man is. But there are not many answers, to begin with, you need to know his name." She paused for a moment as if collecting her thoughts. "Jack is his name, you would probably know him as Jack of Blades." Just hearing the name of the masked man turned the hero's spine to ice, Hammer made an amused grunt.

"Jack of Blades? What rubbish, I heard the stories about him, he died hundreds of years ago. All that's left of him are tall tales and a dead cult." The skepticism in her voice was intentionally apparent. Theresa turned to her, giving a look a mother would before lecturing a child.

"I'm surprised Hammer. After all you have seen, I would think your mind would be more open. Make no mistake, the stories are true, Jack was slain by the Hero of Oakvale all those years ago. But that was not the first time either. Although not recorded, Jack has appeared more times throughout history." She waved her arm around the room. "Look around you Sparrow, the trials that your ancestor made against Jack are written on these very walls."

Sparrow did as he was told and looked at the murals decorating the walls of the Sanctuary. He had seen them all before, the life of one of Albion's greatest heroes. One mural in particular stood out though. It depicted the hero and his family in sorrow, though it wasn't what stood out the most, at the top was the looming figure of a man in a red hood and a white mask. Sparrow's heart almost stopped beating when he realized who it was, Jack of Blades.

"B-but how is this possible?" He stammered to Theresa.

"In desperation, people will do foolish thing. Though his return would have happened regardless, it was sped along when the people you know as the Shadow cultists trusted a man that made false promises of power. Although you have seen some of the power Jack posses, he is still nothing compared to what he will become. It is time you understand what he is." Theresa approached Sparrow and gently placed a hand on his forehead. Almost instantaneously the hero's vision faded into blackness.

Sparrow saw visions, the same visions he saw in his nightmares. This time they became more vivid and clear. He saw the men clutching at their faces, they wore masks identical to Jack's, soon their thrashing stopped and was followed by a deep maniacal laughter. He saw the cowering boy again, the Balverines attacked him but were stopped by two men dressed as heroes, then Jack appeared and killed the Balverines along with the heroes. The boy looked up to Jack and grabbed a hold of his hand. Sparrow then saw Albion, a burned land and flooded world. He saw Jack, standing next to two others he didn't recognize but wore masks similar to his own. A tall man with black hair and Will lines all across his body appeared. He held a black and red ornate sword and fought against the three figures. The man destroyed all three but fell to his knees, his body deteriorated until he was more dead then alive, he threw a blue cloak around his body and faded away.

Sparrow fell to his hands and knees on the ruined floors of the Heroes Sanctuary, breathing heavily as his body dripped in a cold sweat. Hammer ran to his side and supported his body so he could stand. He looked at Theresa, she smiled at him.

"Th-that, still doesn't explain…" He stammered again and was cut off as Theresa raised her hand to stop him.

"I simply cleared the fog in your mind, now you will understand what I tell you." Hammer dragged Sparrow to the old rickety table that was still sitting on the edge of the collapsed floor and sat him down to rest. "This is what you need to know, Jack is not human, he is apart of an unknown race of beings from a realm known as the Void. It is a dark otherworldly place that is said to be were tormented spirits go. These beings called themselves the Court, it consisted of three members, the Knight, Jack, and the Queen of Blades. They existed in the Void for millions of years before our world even began, one day they appeared in Albion and conquered it. They ruled the land for many years until they were defeated by the most powerful mortal our world has ever seen, William Black, the first Archon and the creator of Will. Although the Knight and Queen were destroyed, Jack was only damaged, his soul lived on using the power of his mask. Many years later he returned, the world did not remember him and soon treated him like a hero because of his powers. He attempted to conquer the world again with the power of the Sword of Aeons, but he was beaten by the hero of Oakvale, a descendant of Black. The sword was destroyed but Jack escaped again, a year later he tried to use the power of the Bronze Gate but the hero proved stronger and sealed his soul back into his mask. The mask was then destroyed, defeating him once and for all, or so we all thought." Sparrow just sat there, taking it all in. He had read books about the history of the Hero of Oakvale but details were sketchy and incomplete. The hero was able to collect himself to stand up and calmly look to Theresa.

"Ok then, so what is he up to this time, and what are we supposed to do?" Theresa didn't speak for a moment, then looked to both heroes.

"It is hard to tell what his plans might be, it will take time. As for what you will do," she walked over to the table and placed a finger on the old map that laid there, it was Bloodstone, "you will go to Bloodstone and meet with Garth and Reaver, in a few days they will return from their stay in Samarkand."

"Reaver is still there?" Sparrow sounded surprised. While he knew Garth would most likely have stayed in his homeland, he didn't expect Reaver to have stayed for that long. Though on further thought, he really didn't care. Hammer, who had remained silent, spoke up.

"If Sparrow is going to play welcoming committee, what am I supposed to do?" Sparrow heard the irritation in her voice, a small chuckle escaped him as he remembered back when the warrior monk was forced to wait in the Sanctuary while he journeyed off.

"We need you to travel the lands, the same way you did while Sparrow visited the Spire. You have shown great skill at finding information, you will need to find all you can about what Jack may be doing. Anything out of the ordinary or just stories of strange events, it may be linked to him." The look on Hammer's face showed reluctance to scouring bars again but Sparrow reassured her. The two heroes grabbed their bags and began to leave before Theresa stopped them. They looked to the gypsy who approached Sparrow. She held out her hand and a large deck of cards materialized, her other hand went across the deck and she held a few cards in her grasp.

"Now is not the time to look, but here." She handed the cards to Sparrow, he could see from the backs of them that they were fate cards. He remembered them from the ones Theresa had given him when he started his journey, they gave vague clues to what he would see during his adventure. A smirk came across the hero's face.

"If you think I will need them." She nodded and he put the cards away. Hammer said goodbye and ran out the Cullis Gate, Sparrow said his goodbyes as well and placed his hand on his belt. A blue flash of light surrounded the hero and he faded away.

**A/N: Woohoo! Can finally start calling him Jack, was getting tired of 'masked man' annoying as hell. Well this took a lot longer then I hoped, for a few reasons. Really this month has been terrible for me in general for reasons I wont get into… But whatever, this is getting done slowly but surly. I also want to take this time to thank everyone who has reviewed, favorited, alerted, or just plain liked this story so far. I tip my imaginary hat to you all (I'm not a hat person) I promise this will get better as it goes on, so yeah, read and enjoy. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter: 7**

The temple of Shadows grew deafly silent. Jack sat at his table working on something while the Minions all stood back, waiting. The otherworldly beasts were all too scared of interrupting their master, none dared to make a sound. Jack's full attention was put into his project, he had a small brush in one hand and the Knight of Blades' mask in the other.

On the table sat the crystal vial that he had used on Hammer. Half the blood was gone already as Jack dipped the brush inside and painted more small runes on the inside of the mask, much like the ones on his own before his return. Several more hours had passed by the time the mask was finished.

"Now, the final touch." Jack pulled a small knife out from the side of his armor and stabbed it into his own arm. He tossed the knife aside and allowed the wound to bleed out onto the table. A small pool of inky black blood began to stain the wood, Jack dipped the brush into it and made one last mark on the outside of the mask.

The black rune was made on the mask's forehead, more intricate then the ones on the opposite side. Jack dipped the brush again and made the same rune on his own mask, this one on the left side of the forehead. He held the mask out and it glowed red, the black mark glowed with it and it dissolved away, his own mark disappearing with it.

Jack latched the mask back onto his chest, he turned to see the Minions waiting intently for him, he already knew what they had to tell him.

"Have them wait in the main chamber, I will come for them in a moment. Then return to your previous orders, search these broken lands for others." The Minions made a growl of understanding, a small black hole appeared under each of them and they fell through, disappearing without a trace.

Jack was left alone with his thoughts. He paced the room, dwelling on his plans. Suddenly a surge of anger crossed him, he ran a hand over his injured eye. The attack from the hero had left his yellow eye discolored and reddened, the eyehole of his mask was scorched and blackened around the edges. The hero was more resilient then he had anticipated.

He reached down and grabbed the second mask he had across his chest. Staring into it, he noted the differences in features. The mask of the Queen of Blades, it was more feminine in appearance then the others. A red crescent came around the left eye, with a light purple mark on the forehead. Red and purple designs swirled on a small chin while the stitched mouth formed a flirting smile.

Blood, like Knight's, the mask needed blood. Jack began pacing back and forth again, he had no idea who or what would be suitable. He needed to find the right person to restore her power. The Queen was a powerful sorceress, with a temperament to match. While Jack could revive Knight, he was weak compared to the rest of the Court, he alone would not help.

Growing more and more irritated, Jack returned to the table to think. He needed the right candidate, the right blood. Someone came to mind, a girl he had met many years ago. But the idea was foolish, even with the Archon's blood in her veins, she would be long dead. The Archon himself also seemed likely, but again it was foolish, even if he located Black, his blood had dried up long ago.

Then, an idea came to him. He grabbed the closest book on the table, the hero's biography, and looked through the pages. Jack found the information he thought of, it was a long shot but he had no other choice. After his current business was tended to, he would head out and find the person he had in mind.

Jack stood up and replaced the mask on his chest, he left the small room and walked into the large chamber in the center of the Sanctuary. In the chamber stood ten men, they all stood silently while they waited. As Jack walked into the room the men noticeably stiffened their posture. He stood before them, sizing them all up for strengths and weaknesses.

"You few, are the first of many. The people of this pathetic world who know where true power lies, the people who have the desire to want it, and the people who have the ability to obtain it. You are here because of this desire, while lesser mortals are blind to such things. Now is your time, you will show these fools what power is, and no hero will stop you!" The men all cheered to their new master, Jack waited for them to quiet down and continued. "Together you are reviving an old power to this world, people will fear your mention and you will give them reason to. I already have a task for some of you, a test if you will. Success will mean greater power then you can imagine and a place at the side of the Court." The men cheered again, the promise of power was too good for them to believe, they were all fools.

**A/N: Okay, this chapter was a bit shorter then the others, like Chapter 3 was. It also followed the same idea. I'll probably have at least one more chapter like these, maybe even more but I dunno, just depends on how the story progresses. As usual, read and enjoy, any review you can think of will be greatly appreciated. **


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter: 8**

Sparrow stepped away from the blue light that swirled around his feet. Almost immediately he coughed and gagged as a foul stench reached his senses. The strength of it forced him to his knees while his dog whimpered, wondering what was wrong with his master.

"Don't worry boy," he said with a smirk, "its just been a while since we've last been here. Will take a minute for me to get used to it." He slowly stood up to eye his surroundings. Murky water, maze-like trees, damp roads, and the feeling of decaying flesh. Wraithmarsh hadn't changed a bit since he saw it last, and that was years ago.

The squishing sound of wet cloth was all the hero could hear as he crossed the waters of the marsh. He stopped walking each time he made it to dry land to wring out the water in his boots, cursing under his breath.

It was strange, Wraithmarsh was unnaturally calm. Normally he would have already destroyed a small army of Hollow Men, but Sparrow encountered nothing. He didn't even see any mist or hear the cries of Banshees. Everything was quiet, still.

Sparrow continued through the marsh until he came up to the ruined houses where part of the town used to sit. It was there when something broke the silence, it sounded like, humming. Loud, deep humming that vibrated itself into every bone in Sparrow's body. He quickly unsheathed his sword and retrieved his pistol, he walked around the houses and followed the direction the sound was coming from.

He reached the center of the area, a large open space circled with houses. It was at the center he saw it, lounging on the decrepit well was a man in black armor and a white mask, Jack of Blades. The masked man hadn't noticed the hero yet, his gaze was off towards the rest of the village. Sparrow tried staying out of sight as he approached closer to the well.

Setting a good distance between him and Jack, Sparrow aimed his gun and flexed his index finger on the trigger. As the trigger was about to fire the gun, the humming stopped, Sparrow held his breath.

"Such a beautiful scenery. To think, all it took was a single greedy wish and the right people." Jack didn't look at Sparrow, he kept his eyes forward, as if seeing something that wasn't there. Sparrow didn't wait and fired his gun. As soon as the sound of the shot rang out, Jack vanished without a trace. Sparrow went wide eyed and looked around, he saw nothing. Then, he heard a small whisper against the side of his ear.

"You will have to do better then that, hero." A whisper in his ear. Sparrow saw Jack standing behind him from the corner of his eye. The hero gripped his sword tighter and spun himself around, swinging the blade down hard. Again, Jack wasn't there, as if he never was.

"I'm not seeing things, he is here." Sparrow looked to his dog, who made small whimpers with his tail between his legs, he was scared. "Come on Jack! Don't tell me that such a powerful man of the Void is scared of a simple hero!" He looked around, trying to find Jack, he knew he wasn't crazy. He heard his voice behind him again, more distant this time. Sparrow turned to see Jack, standing a distance away from him.

"Ahh, you know who I am now do you? That's a surprise, even your forbear never truly understood who I was until it was too late. Tell me, how do _you _know?" Sparrow showed a smirk.

"Lets just say I have powerful friends. But you shouldn't be worried about that, I aim to destroy you, here and now." Jack just laughed at the hero, finding amusement from the hero's threats.

"You still think you have a chance against me? Even with my current strength you have failed in your attempts. You should have seen that when I attacked your friends, and your wife." He struck a nerve with the hero and knew it. Sparrow threw his sword at the man with all his strength, it flew almost as fast as any bullet. The blade hit dead center in his chest, but went through it.

Sparrow's eyes widened in shock as the blade went through Jack like it would go through air. The sword stabbed into the side of one of the houses behind him. Jack just laughed again and began walking towards the hero, who had taken a few steps back.

"Oh I'm sorry I couldn't have come here in person, but I am a busy man, can't waste time on small travels. Hopefully, you will live long enough to see the fruits of my efforts." Jack made it to Sparrow but kept walking, the hero crossed his arms over his face and closed his eyes. Jack walked into Sparrow and disappeared again. He looked around, seeing that he was gone for good. Sparrow roared in rage, slamming a hand against the side of one of the houses. After letting out a deep sigh he retrieved his sword and continued his trip through Wraithmarsh, not encountering any undead resistance along the way.

Sparrow soon made it to Bloodstone. The salty sea air washed over the hero, refreshing his senses.

"Is there a ship arriving here from Samarkand?" The hero asked the port's captain.

"Uh, let me see here," he looked over the small stack of papers he held, "ah yes, a ship is due to arrive here in a few days, there is no exact date though."

"A few days huh?" Sparrow let out a low sigh and left. He didn't feel like sitting around doing nothing while he waited for a boat, but if he left he might miss their arrival. Letting out another sigh, Sparrow continued following the rising paths to the top of the town.

It was there he saw it. The largest house in all of Bloodstone, it was the complete opposite of all the others. The décor was the best money could buy, with priceless ornaments decorating the walls. Sparrow could remember when he first bought the manor, he did it mostly to spite Reaver. At least the hero would have somewhere to stay while he waited for the others.

Sparrow went into the manor's main room. He immediately noticed the layer of dust that had settled over the years of absence and neglect. A chuckle escaped him as he imagined Reaver's anger towards the cleanliness of his home.

After a few minutes of cleaning the dust off of some of the area, Sparrow came towards Reaver's "secret" stash of wine and other alcoholic liquids. He made sure to pick the most expensive looking bottle he could find and sat down before the newly lit fire. A loud pop of the bottle being opened echoed through the empty building, a quick sip was all the hero could attempt before the warm liquid burned his throat and caused him to cough uncontrollably. The hero soon realized that he hadn't had a decent drink since he had gotten married. But after a few more sips his mind reacquired the taste and only after an hour he found himself dropping the empty bottle on the ground.

An amused grunt came from him as he surprised himself. Another trip to the stash and Sparrow came back with three more bottles. A few more hours passed and the hero found himself draining the last drops from those as well. Sparrow stood up and paced around the room, not feeling groggy in the slightest. It was never something he understood, if it was because of his heroic prowess or that his mind was used to the abuse of the drink. Though he preferred the former, the latter seemed the most likely.

Sparrow soon noticed how late it was and decided to rest from his trip. As usual, being Reaver's house, he didn't trust the bedrooms for an instant, so took a few cushions from the furniture and slept on the floor, with his dog curled up next to him.

Morning soon greeted the hero, he awoke and shook off the drowsiness that shrouded over him. Sparrow left the house heading towards the docks, making two quick stops along the way. The food stalls, where he filled his empty stomach, and the local tailors to buy a replacement pair of boots. After his shopping was done he continued towards the docks, rather then stopping though, he turned and followed the stone path outside the town.

The dock ended but he kept going, soon he reached a path leading off the cliffside. As he reached it he could spot a large ship sitting in the water. He jumped across to the deck and touched the wooden wheel. The wheel immediately began to spin back and forth and the ship followed by leaving the cliffside.

Sparrow looked out to the open sea, the salty sea air swirled by him. He chuckled when he noticed his dog almost tripping over his own paws, but the amusement didn't last as he found himself succumbing to the sickness as well. Almost falling off the ship from the swaying of the ship, Sparrow made his way to the side and immediately lost what little food he had gotten earlier.

Hours later the ship slowed to a stop and Sparrow saw the island it headed for. Lion's Head island, though it wasn't the best place for a vacation, it was secluded. For the rest of the day Sparrow laid back on the island's sandy beach.

Sparrow returned to Bloodstone Manor to finish the day off. With a new bottle in hand he sat down before a comforting fire. When the bottle was about half empty, Sparrow remembered something. He looked through his pockets and found the Fate Cards Theresa had given him. Without looking, Sparrow shuffled the small stack of cards and picked up the first.

The card depicted a figure standing at the side of an empty throne. The figure was of a faceless man, his only features were his large muscles. The man wore a cracked breastplate and held a rusted sword at his side. The area surrounding the man and the throne was blank, void of any other detail except for a small path that started at his feet. At the very bottom of the card was the card's title, The Faithful Warrior.

As Sparrow examined the card Theresa's voice echoed into his mind. "_The Faithful Warrior, the inner fighter in all people. The rusty sword and cracked armor relate to experience, the rust grows and the crack deepens as events and years are encountered and conquered. The throne indicates the loyalty within, even when empty, the warrior shows no signs of treason or betrayal and will do anything to please their master. The singular path is a sign of simplicity, though not to be considered dim witted, the warrior follows a single track mind and uses it as an advantage. Interestingly though, the lack of a face is to be seen as the lack of individuality… perhaps you will encounter more then one on your journey." _Sparrow pondered what the card said and placed it aside. He then took the next card and looked at it.

This card appeared similar to the first. Portrayed in the card was a large throne room. In the center was a throne that was made of roses. In the rest of the room laid dozens of bodies, all strewn about in different places and positions. The room itself appeared to be made of pure gold, no flaws or imperfections could be seen. On the throne sat a figure, faceless like the warrior, wearing fine silk robes. The figure also wore a crown, the left side was white and looked simple, while the right side was black with spikes sprouting from every angle. The Powerful Tyrant was written at the bottom.

The voice of Theresa soon came back to him. "_The Powerful Tyrant, a card reserved for the most heartless. Though the tyrant is looked at to be evil at all times, the crown shows the two faces. It is interpreted that the person can be a tyrant for good purposes, or that they are merciless at heart and attempt in covering it with lies for their vanity. The bodies are that of victims, though not all are killed under a tyrant's heel, they represent the pain caused. The roses and gold show the lies of perfection and order, while there is suffering, it is ignored. Again it is shown to be faceless…" _Sparrow put the card with the first and reached for another.

The third card again showed a throne room. The throne was empty but a golden crown laid in the seat. A distance from the throne was a man kneeling before it. Unlike the previous two cards, the man was featured. Though he wasn't facing the card it was obvious he had one. The man also held a dagger behind him, concealing it from the nonexistent ruler. The walls around the throne room looked ruined and crumbled, in contrast to the throne that looked undamaged. At the bottom of the card, The Patient Usurper, was written.

Again, Sparrow heard Theresa's voice. "_The Patient Usurper, the card of betrayal and lust for power. As the title says, patience is a key trait, the ruined throne room show it as well. Thousands of years are like the blink of an eye to him. The empty thrown and crown show the journey for power, and the dagger is the means he will go. This is an evil card that is rarely used, darkness follows this person." _Sparrow put the card away and looked for another, it was the last one.

The last one was strange, it showed no people this time. The card showed a heart rapped in a silk cloth, a large dagger piercing through it. Again, at the bottom of this card was written, The Sacrifice.

Theresa's voice returned again. "_The card of Sacrifice. No matter who the person is, throughout their life sacrifices are made. Some are so insignificant they are overlooked, while others can change the life of themselves and everyone around them. This card is for those sacrifices, the dagger showing the pain that will be caused. The card shows very little, but its about what isn't there that is important. This card is sister to The Choice card, as they can be seen together, and rarely apart. But, without that card, it indicates that an unknown sacrifice may be made… _Sparrow put down the last card and stared into the fire, mulling over what the cards had told him. A chill crept up his back but he ignored it. After finishing the bottle he held, Sparrow slouched over and fell asleep.

Sparrow woke up to his dog scratching at his hand. He looked around noticing how long he had slept, the sky was bright and sunny. To shake off his drowsiness, the hero took a short run through the town.

He found himself outside the town's Inn. Sparrow walked inside and looked around, almost immediately he recognized an old face. An old man sat at one end of the bar, wearing dirty, ragged clothes and an old pirate hat.

"Salty Jack." Sparrow greeted the old man, who looked up from his empty bottle to look at the hero.

"Ah, Lionheart, its been a while." Jack gave a smile, showing off his missing teeth.

"Only a few years, and it's Sparrow, I prefer to use my name now that I don't play the hero anymore." The old pirate just shook his head.

"You might not act like one now, but deep down you are what you are. But enough about your name, what brings you back to this town of liars and thieves?" Sparrow sat down at his table and ordered them both a round of drinks. The next few hours were spent of Sparrow telling him about the years after the Spire, Jack's revival, and Reaver and Garth's arrival.

"So there you have it, a new journey, and more worries." A deep sigh came from the hero into his latest bottle. Jack rubbed his hairy chin, processing what he had heard.

"Worries eh? I suppose that's a price of being married to a hero. You shouldn't beat yourself up about your wife though. It's obvious she loves you, why else stay and wait for you?" Sparrow showed a smirk.

"You may be right."

"I always am," he let out a loud laugh, "and thanks to you, that fact wont be doubted anymore. Tell me, after all these years of you resting yourself, how long until we can expect some little heroes?" Sparrow chuckled in response.

"Children? Well, we have talked about it, but I was always uncertain. Didn't know if the world was right enough to bring a child into. So we have waited, seeing how long it would take for Albion to not need a hero anymore. Maybe, after this last adventure, we can think more on it."

They talked for a while longer and Sparrow left to catch a rest. After that day Sparrow made a small routine as he waited. A few hours spent on Lion's Head, then he spent the rest of the time at the docks, waiting for the right ship. The routine only lasted two more days.

On Sparrow's last day, he found himself confronted. A small gang of fools thought that bringing down a hero would make them legends. They had attempted to ambush him as he stood at the docks. It didn't last long as the was able to pull them off of him easily.

"Your life is over Lionheart." The leader spoke with high arrogance. "You will die and Albion will fear us." The others all grunted in agreement. Sparrow pinched the bridge of his nose from the idiocy, while the leader pulled a gun on him. Before the leader had a chance to fire, a different gun rang out and his was shattered, Sparrow's Red Dragon was in hand. The leader had no chance to react as another shot was made, going through his knee. He fell to the ground yelling in pain.

"I suggest you consider yourself lucky that you aren't worth it. Get out of my sight." Sparrow put his gun away, as most of the members ran for it. Two stayed behind to pick up their leader.

They started to run, soon after another shot was heard and the three men all collapsed, dead. The hero looked around wildly, trying to find the source.

"Oh my, three in one shot, I do so love it when I impress even myself. Perhaps I should carry a blindfold, make things more…interesting." Sparrow turned to see a ship docked behind him, standing on the edge was a familiar face. The short man was dressed in fine black clothing with a jewel encrusted sword on one side, and a black pistol on the other. "Tsk, tsk, though Sparrow, you should know by now that mercy is never a good idea."

"It's mercy that sets heroes apart from monsters Reaver." Another familiar voice was heard, Garth, the hero of Will appeared behind the pirate. The magician still wore his blue jacket, adorned with belts and ties that held potions papers and a simple dagger.

"Oh yes, mercy was really apart of your repertoire while you fought against those Spire guards, right?" Reaver said with a smirk. Garth's good eye gave a glare.

"Some things never change." Sparrow laughed. Both heroes walked off the ship onto the dock.

"Well I'm glad to have a welcoming party for my arrival, Sparrow." Reaver held out his arms for a hug, Sparrow walked past him to Garth, they shook hands.

"It's good to see you again Garth."

"I told you we would meet again, although," he turned his gaze to Reaver, "this fool almost got us both killed." The pirate gave an innocent look to them both.

"You try to make it look like it was all my fault Garthy boy."

"It was." Garth's glare had returned.

"What happened?" Sparrow's curiosity was struck.

"The locals of that backwater country have aggression problems, that's about it." Reaver spoke nonchalantly.

"You provoked it!" Garth shouted. Reaver still looked innocent as if whatever happened was no big deal.

"They have no sense of humor, or sense of fun for that matter. Blasted Inn was no more then a shack with dirty water for drinks and rags for beds." It sounded interesting enough to the hero but he knew it would take too long.

"Well it sounds like a story for another day." Sparrow had almost forgotten why he was there. "Some things have come up and you both need to come back to the Sanctuary with me. But first we will need to head back to the manor, and collect a few things." He walked off towards the building, Garth and Reaver exchanged glances and followed.

Along the way Sparrow filled them in on what happened, Garth was visibly surprised to hear of Jack's returned while Reaver seemed uninterested. They reached the house and went inside, Reaver looked around, noticing the filth that had accumulated. They reached the house's center were Sparrow retrieved his bag. "What on earth have you done to my home?" Reaver noticed the small pile of empty bottles in the corner of the room and sighed. "Well I suppose it was inevitable." He pulled out his pistol and aimed it Sparrow, who only chuckled at the gun.

"I didn't think you were that true to your word."

"When have I not been?" He said with more innocence. Sparrow merely raised an eyebrow. "Okay, maybe not when concerning certain… details." Sparrow's face turned to a serious look and he approached Reaver, the gun resting against the hero's forehead.

"Go ahead." He said, looking into Reaver's eyes. "Do it, you know what happened to the last man who tried." Reaver let out a small laugh and placed the gun back at his side.

"Damn you Sparrow, you know how to pull my strings all too well." He winked at the hero who just shook his head. He went to a corner of the room and tossed a bag to Reaver and Garth each.

"Here are some supplies, I tried to anticipate what we would need, as well as a coming home gift." They both looked through the bag and pulled out old parchment.

"This is a deed, for my manor…" Reaver said while examining the paper.

"Mine is to my tower…" Garth added as he looked at his own. Sparrow just crossed his arms, a look of annoyance showed on his face.

"I have no need for them, I have my own place to be bothered with. But don't worry Garth, I kept your tower in good condition, though you'll find your missing a bed." Sparrow smirked as Garth's good eye went wide.

"You didn't…" Sparrow nodded. "What happened?" He reached into his vest and pulled out a small pen and piece of blank parchment.

"Nothing really, just… played. But afterwards I made sure to dispose of it. If you want it back though you should check the nearby lake, most of it will be there." The will user's mouth came open, trying to say something but unable to form words. He quickly shook his head and found the ability to speak again.

"That was a priceless artifact, thousands of years old."

"It was also a dangerous artifact Garth, you didn't see what kind of damage that thing could do to people." Garth sighed, shaking his head again. Reaver began walking towards the door.

"Well thank you for returning my property, I suppose we can postpone your death by my hand for now. I'll hope you both can see yourself out before my return. Now I need to find someone to clean my home, tatty-bye hero." As he walked out Sparrow stepped into his path.

"You aren't going anywhere Reaver, we need you." The pirate just chuckled at him.

"Now now Sparrow, I have no interest in helping you, last time I was left with a aching body and a bad taste in my mouth for weeks. And besides, what could I stand to benefit amongst your company?" After he spoke a loud explosion occurred in the manor's foyer, creating a large hole in the side. Shouts soon filled the air as a group of men stormed in.

They wore black clothing with a red shirt and white cowl that covered over their mouths. Brandishing long blades, they charged at the heroes.

"Why is everyone out to destroy my home!" Reaver shouted as he fired his gun at the nearest attacker, the bullets lodged into both his knees causing him to collapse in pain. Sparrow was attacked by four, holding them off with his own sword, pushing one away causing his dog to lunge at him, pinning the man down and tear for his throat. Garth was defending himself with his blades shield and attempting to attack two with blasts of scorching fire. A spell landed against one's arm, disarming them and leaving their defense open for a finishing blow. Reaver had easier luck with the one attacking him, using his blade to push the attacks back, he was able to quickly fire his gun, killing him in one shot.

Sparrow had finished off two of his adversaries, as he looked on the progress of his allies. As his gaze shifted he was immediately thrown off balance as he was pushed against by his remaining target. The man held his blade over the hero preparing to finish him. As he brought up his blade for the strike a gasp escaped his lips while an orange ethereal blade pierced his chest. The man fell over revealing a grinning Garth.

"I'd say we're even." Sparrow said while returning a grin as he was helped up."If you want to just count that prison, then I suppose your right." They exchanged laughs as Reaver inspected the damage to his house. All three soon noticed the cries of pain from the first foe Reaver had shot, still clutching his bloody knees.

"Don't worry, you'll soon join your compatriots." Reaver said as he pointed his pistol down on him.

"Wait Reaver!" Sparrow shouted, he just gave the hero an angry look from being stopped mid-fire. Without waiting for a reply, Sparrow picked the man up and slammed him hard against one of the walls. "Why were you sent here!" He shouted to the man.

"Hero filth!" The man snarled, spitting on the hero's face. Sparrow just gave a deviant smile in response.

"Reaver?" Sparrow said, turning a questioning gaze in his direction. The smile was soon on his face as well as he aimed and fired his pistol, sending the bullet into the man's thigh. Another roar of pain filled the air. "Now, my trigger happy friend would be more then willing to waste another one of his shots on you. So answer me, why did he send you?"

Again the man was defiant in his answer. The routine continued five more times. The man's legs became a mangled mess. While the three heroes were almost deafened from the many screams that filled the air. Soon only a small flicker of life was left in the man's screams of pain and maddening eyes. Sparrow was signaling for another shot when a weak voice came from the man.

"Wait please, no…more." The three heroes were surprised and gave their full attention to him. "The master…Jack, sent us…we were given a test… He said there were three people we needed to destroy… in Bloodstone." Sparrow brought the man closer to his face.

"What is he planning?" The man attempted to speak but his voice quickly trailed off as his eyes rolled backwards. Sparrow dropped his body with disgust, causing it to make a resonating thud off the floor. Garth just shook his head.

"Fools, he sent them to their deaths."

"But for what purpose?" Sparrow pondered it. "A single one of us could have beaten them. He must have known that." Garth was deep in thought as well.

"I can't figure it out, there is no purpose in it. Everything I have read about Jack would say against this move." As Sparrow and Garth thought on what was going on, Reaver was standing alone, eyeing the dead men with interest while scratching his chin. The discussions between the two heroes was quickly broken from Reaver's laughter.

"Well I'll be, this Jack fellow is more devious then I originally gave him credit for." The questioning gazes from the others forced him to continue. "It's simple if you think about it. A distraction of course, a simple tactic I myself have used many times. Works wonders and is an effective way to get rid of undesierable workers."

"That still doesn't explain everything." Garth said. "Why do it? We don't know his plans, or what he is after." They continued to ponder Jack's reasons, soon Sparrow's face paled as his mind came to a terrible conclusion.

"We need to leave!" He shouted in haste. "Now!"

**A/N: First off, Im really sorry I have not updated in forever. Computer and time problems have kept me from it. But it IS getting worked on. I am rather curious how well I did, concerning the Fate cards and Garth/Reaver s arrivale. So as usual read and enjoy, I'v looked over this thing a few times but Im sure there are a few mistakes here and there, but they are minor. And if you really like it, make a review. They always help.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter: 9**

The iconic blue light filled the dark guild Sanctuary. As the light dimmed and disappeared, the old gypsy Theresa stood in it's place. She came waiting for the arrival of the heroes.

The darkness of the Guild's remains brought on darker memories to the Seeress. Just standing there, Theresa could see all the blood that had been spilled over the years, guilty and innocent blood alike. She stood in the center as she often did, but she could not stop the emotions welling inside of her. More memories of her first visit to the chamber filled her mind. When she said goodbye to her family for the last time. Where she lost her mother and was saved by her brother.

During her earlier years she had taught herself to be more cold, more emotionless, but never fully grasped it. Before the Spire, she had no full control over her own powers, but that was not all, she also had no control over her own inner turmoil. The pains she had suffered over the years, that were repeatedly put aside to be ignored.

Almost instinctively, Theresa raised a hand to the side of her face, near her eyes. It was a motion she hadn't preformed in years, during that time she always felt her cloth, a grim reminder of her fate. Now all she feels is her own flesh, serving as its own reminder for how much things have changed.

As she lamented over her own memories, a familiar feeling crept into her senses. It was an old, unmistakeable feeling of fear, sorrow, and despair. Theresa knew the feeling all too well, and what caused it. The cause was the last thing she ever saw.

"It has been a long time Jack." She turned her head as she spoke, watching the entrance to the chamber, while a dark figure stepped into the light, Jack of Blades.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the blind Seeress Theresa, to my own surprise. I must give you credit, you have surpassed all my own expectations. To think, you have outlived your pathetic whelp of a brother by so long. That's the beauty of it though, you mortals always seem to find new ways to impress me." A soft smile crossed Theresa.

"I should consider myself surprised as well, your lack of naivete is astounding for someone who has been... away for so long." Jack chuckled as he strolled across the chamber, approaching the old table at the side.

"Well, I must admit. I was lost at first, though lucky for me, my faithful follower was kind enough to leave me with all I needed to learn. Even more surprises occurred as I found out the fate of your beloved village and your brother's pathetic guild. As hard as you tried to keep them both safe, it all counted for nothing, quite amusing to say the least. But," he reached behind himself and brought out a book, slamming it hard on the table, Sparrow's biography, "I owe much gratitude to your newest favorite. Such a simple life, compared to others at least. And yet, he has set in motion my plans flawlessly. Leading me to find that so called hero of Strength, though not as strong as I thought, her blood shall serve well for Knight. My beloved Queen though... the past has taught me that normal Will users are useless in this world. But the book also mentioned a powerful guardian of this hero, and of course I find out it's you, fate is such a wondrous thing at times. But I'll assume you knew why I'm here already." Theresa just shook her head.

"You won't win Jack, your actions are only creating the path that will lead to an already predetermined destination of reality." Again Jack laughed at her.

"You are inclined to believe your own foolish visions, but the truth is what I will it to be." He approached her, retrieving the cutlass that hung on his back. "Fitting, you survive me all those years ago, only to benefit me in the future. Don't worry though, your blood will serve a greater purpose then it ever could in your veins, and you'll finally be returned to your mongrel family." Theresa held her arms out, as if accepting her fate. Jack placed one hand on her shoulder and thrust the blade into her chest. Jack's dark laugh filled the Guild chamber, it soon died as he realized his target had not. Theresa still stood there, her soft smile still lingering.

"Much has changed since you've been gone Jack." Without replying, Jack made one swift motion, removing the blade and catching a few drops of blood in a small vial. Then a strange sound and bright blue light filled the end of the chamber, on the Cullis Gate stood Sparrow, Reaver and Garth. Sparrow's eyes went wide with horror as he saw Jack, he soon noticed the wounded Theresa. The emotion in his eyes changed quickly to blind fury.

As he was about to charge forward, a firm hand gripped his shoulder. He turned to see Garth, his Will lines set as bright as they could.

"Strike swift and strong." Was all he said before Sparrow felt a spike of Will energies go through his body. Every muscle in his body seemed to become stronger. Without waiting to see the full effect of the spell, Sparrow jump forward to the masked fiend. While holding his sword high above his head, he swung it down hard as he came down on him. Jack quickly raised his cutlass to block the attack, but as the hero's blade struck, his own was shattered without resistance, cutting into the demon. Jack stumbled backward, and fell to his knees. The blade had made a large diagonal gash across the white mask.

The anger fueled hero charged again, but Jack was ready and jumped back.

"That's two injuries I owe you for hero. And you will pay dearly for it." A black void opened behind him and he stepped into it, vanishing. Sparrow stood there, his own heart pumping hard, as Garth's spell wore off. He turned to Theresa, her wound was already gone leaving only a small stain of blood over her robes.

"Theresa, are you alright?" She just nodded, while quickly resuming her usual demeanor. Reaver and Garth approached them, Reaver began clapping slowly.

"Bravo, excellent show. If _that _is the infamous Jack of Blades then we should have nothing to worry about. Especially if our boy Sparrow here can do so much so easily, just give me a shot at him and I'll have this mess sorted out in a jiffy." Garth just shook his head.

"Don't be a fool, that spell I had given him would have easily destroyed a normal man. Jack wasn't even at his full strength from the looks of it and it hardly phased him. This is bad, what could he be planning."

"He is going revive the rest of the Court." Theresa said, the three heroes all turned to her. "And he now has the means to do so."

"No..."Garth's voice was shaking.

"How powerful are they?" Sparrow asked. Garth gave him a look of disbelief.

"Essentially, even the first Archon himself wasn't strong enough, until he obtained the most powerful weapon in existence."

"So we need to find that weapon." Determination filling the hero's face. Garth merely frowned at him.

"Impossible, it was destroyed long ago." Despair had settled over the Will user, but Sparrow felt his anger flare again,

"Then what?" He shouted. "Are we to just sit here and wait until it's too late?"

"Calm down Sparrow," said Theresa, "our actions will be planned, but first..." She trailed off and looked towards the Cullis Gate. A blue light flashed and Hammer appeared, walking towards them.

"I see you two have returned." She said, eying the new heroes.

"And where have you been? Off getting drunk at some bar no doubt, while the real heroes face off against demons, their lackeys, and things of that sort." Reaver grinned devilishly at her, while Hammer gave an ice cold glare.

"For your information, I spent the last few days traveling to find out what Jack is doing. A lot more then you've been doing you pretentious pretty boy."

"Ignorant knuckle dragger." Reaver retorted.

"Enough." Theresa's voice was stern, causing the heroes to jump slightly, including Reaver. "Nothing will be accomplished if you continue your petty quarrels. There are far more important things at hand." A silence accompanied the others, still surprised from Theresa's change in tone. She turned to Hammer. "Hammer, did you find anything?" It took a moment for the monk to compose herself.

"Uh, yes, I found something odd. In a few of the villages I visited there were strange stories of people going missing. The strange part of it was that no one was kidnapped, they all seemed to just walk away then disappear without a trace."

"Followers..." Theresa said. "Before, when he came to power, Jack amassed a large group of loyal subjects. Others though, can be tricked or controled into working for him. You will need to be careful, he will begin to have eyes and ears everywhere."

"We've already met some of them," said Sparrow, "before we came here. The wore an odd attire, with strange a strange symbol on their faces." Theresa turned away from them for a moment, forming an infinite amount of plans and possibilities in her mind, she then turned her attention to the Will user.

"Garth, I believe you have an idea on a certain device of yours." He gave her a surprised look, no one else should have known about it, but he soon remembered it _was _Theresa.

"Well yes, I was just thinking about it." He looked to Sparrow. "I may have a weapon that we can use to aid us, we will just need to go to my tower to retrieve it." Sparrow nodded his head in acceptance, determined to do whatever he could to stop the masked madman.

"Good," Theresa began, "you two head for Brightwood, when you return, there will be more plans for the four of you." Reaver suddenly gained the attention of the others as he started to chuckle.

"You seem offly convinced that _I _amapart of this equation. I have no intentions on galloping off with some of my least favorite people, just to fight some deranged creature who can't understand his own limitations. Sparrow here can be the hero, I'd much rather sit back and watch the show." He was immediately surrounded with protests from both Garth and Hammer, while Sparrow just approached him, smirking to himself.

"Oh well, by all means Reaver, don't help. It will only show Jack that the dreaded King of Thieves known as Reaver is too frightened, he did after all attack you in your own home, and yet you want to do nothing about it..." Reaver's face showed obvious signs of considerations as he listened to Sparrow, being angered slightly as the hero pulled his 'strings'. "A shame though," he continued, "I could see the stories now. The great Reaver, defeating the infamous Jack of Blades in a single shot, something the Hero of Oakvale or the Archon himself could ever hope to accomplish. But if you want to hide away, then we wont hold it against you." Sparrow finished and looked at the pirate, who was having a conflict of interests.

"I, err.. well...ok fine!" He said, with the same anger he used after being 'convinced' to help against Lucien. "You have swayed me again in aiding you, but this time," he shot a glare to Theresa, "I expect something better then a second rate vacation as a reward." Sparrow just nodded, still showing his smirk. He then changed his gaze to Garth who was quickly hiding the signs of a smile that drifted into his features, he held out his arm.

"Shall we?" Garth answered by grabbing a hold of his arm. "All right, we'll be back as soon as we can." Then all it took was a swift motion to his belt and the two heroes were gone.

* * *

They both appeared at the top of Brightwood Tower. As usual, the surroundings were spectacular, the height of the tower showed off every aspect of the dense forest. Tall trees, clear waters, and the ruins of the Old Kingdom all added to the beauty.

After the two heroes took in the scenery, they walked out of the tower, Garth leading. Following the twists and turns of the outside pathways. Only a small distance away from the tower, they were standing at the edge of a small lake, at the center sat an island, on the island was a ruined tower.

"There?" Sparrow asked, a small hint of humor in his voice, his usual smirk started to show as the idea of the old magician swimming crossed him. Garth didn't answer, he knelt down and placed a hand on the wet bank. Immediately the water turned to ice and continued to grow until it reached the other side. A surprised noise escaped the hero, causing a smaller chuckle to escape Garth.

While crossing the icy bridge Sparrow saw a sight that caused him to bend over laughing, Garth looked out to see why and he noticed it as well. Protruding from the water was what looked like blackened wood, looking closer in the water showed more. It was of a larger piece, the full appearance looked like a large piece of a scorched bed frame. Upon seeing it, Garth immediately averted his gaze away from it, while Sparrow continued to laugh. He soon got over it and they entered the tower.

Not far from the front door was a single room, it was spacious but was home only to a single torch and vines. At the far end was a wide pedestal that sat a chest, the lid still hanging open.

"It would seem someone was here." Garth said eying Sparrow, who gave an apologetic look.

"Sorry, didn't know it was yours. Why keep it here, and wheres this weapon of yours?" Garth just sighed in disappointment while he approached the chest.

"I figured someone as smart as you would be able to figure it out." He dropped a few gold coins and a small red vial into the chest and re-closed it. "It's to distract thieves into thinking that's all that's here." Garth walked to the only other thing that broke the emptiness of the room, a doorway that was closed off with collapsed ruble and overgrown vines. He placed his hands on the side and focused his Will power. The air around them surged and swirled with power as the rocks began to shack violently. A large boom sounded as an invisible force pushed against the barrier, forcing the debris to the side and revealing an accessible path.

Garth motioned for Sparrow to enter, he followed inside and forced the debris back, blocking the entrance again. The doorway spiraled down to a larger room, different doorways lead to different halls, just standing there Sparrow could feel the structure was massive.

"As you could easily guess," began Garth as they walked the ancient halls, "the tower isn't nearly big enough for my experiments, but I found these chambers and soon made use of them. The perfect space and amount of seclusion I could ever need. Many breakthroughs have been here, but the unfinished ones were put on hold when Lucien came to me about the Spire. This is the first time I've returned in years." Sparrow stayed behind Garth, glancing at the different tools in each room they passed, some held alchemy supplies, while others were filled with old scrolls and journals. One room in particular sent chills into the hero, different shelves hung on the walls, each filled with jars that held parts of assorted creatures.

While Sparrow examined his surroundings he failed to notice the sudden stop of his guide. Without noticing, he walked past Garth, the ground shook and opened up underneath his feet. Falling forward, Sparrow saw a pit filled with spikes. His eyes shut tight, preparing for the impact when the falling stopped. A small pinch was felt on his forehead as he looked and saw his face hovering just before the tips of the spikes, one tip had barley pierced the skin. Garth had grabbed onto his coat, then he tossed him aside.

"What-what was that?" Sparrow said between deep breaths, his eyes as wide as they could go.

"Sorry, I put different traps all around the chambers, just in case someone made it down here. Don't worry, there shouldn't be any others between here and where we are going." Sparrow was hesitant to continued but knew he had no choice. They continued down the halls, Garth frequently commenting on specific objects they crossed. They reached to a older looking room, twice the size of the others, filled with large metal cages, different tubes and pipes were strung up on the ceiling.

"What experiments occurred here?" Sparrow asked, examining the different sizes and contents of each cage. A few stood out, the iron bars were bent open or sliced into pieces.

"Oh no," responded Garth, a slight shaking in his voice. Sparrow was about to question him when he was quickly answered, a vicious howl echoed throughout the stone halls. The howl was followed by the sound of padded feet hitting stone and bestial grunting. From the different branching halls jumped out a group of Balverines, but they weren't normal.

The Balverines were double the size as normal ones, their muscles bulged grotesquely, dark red veins glowed underneath their skin, and large crystalline spikes protruded from their backs and shoulders while their claws were replaced by the same material.

As soon as the beasts spotted the heroes they charged forward. One caught Sparrow in the chest and threw him against the nearest cage, two more lunged after him. Garth was fending off two others as well, the magical blades protecting him being easily shattered with each swipe of their hardened claws.

Sparrow rolled away from his attackers, grabbing his blade and swinging it down hard on one, cutting through it's arm and severing it. The limb twitched slightly and became lifeless, the Balverine howled in pain and from the wound the large crystals in it's shoulder grew and took the form of the missing flesh. His sword swung at a different one but the Balverine caught the blade in it's hand, Sparrow used his free hand and placed his pistol against the Balverines chest, firing repeatedly. The attack seemed to only make the creature angry, it's hand on his sword began to crackle with blue energy. The electricity trailed through it's hand and followed the blade to Sparrow, he was forced to let go as the pain was too much for him. The Balverine barked triumphantly and tossed the blade aside.

Garth was having better luck, one of the creatures left it's guard down for a moment, a single blast of ice took advantage of it. The other dodged away from a slash from an ethereal blade, the Balverine cleared the distance by diving for the Will user. Garth saw the attack and unsheathed the dagger he kept at his side, stabbing it in the heart as it came down on him. Using Force Push, he sent it's body flying at high speeds, crashing into one of the three focused on Sparrow. The Balverine on ice started to smoke slightly, it soon broke free from the ice by engulfing itself in flames. After it's freedom, the creature slashed the dagger from Garth's hand, threw him against the wall of the chamber and dove for the injured hero. Garth's hands glowed green, a small orb shot from the hands and hit the flying Balverine, causing it to slow down in mid-air. Garth then jumped out of it's path and pulled on the nearest torch bolted to the wall, a spiked pit opened where he was laying and the Balverine fell inside, he closed the pit and took a rest against the wall.

Sparrow, now defenseless, could do nothing to stop the swipe of the Balverine's crystallized hand. The sharp claws sank deep into his chest, the force of the attack sent the hero flying into the gaping hole of a nearby cage. The Balverine fiendishly licked the blood off it's claws before it tried swinging for him again, unable to reach through the bars. Sparrow saw a chance and grabbed a hold of it's flailing arms, pulling it forward and impaling it against the broken cage bars. The body of a different Balverine crashed into another one focused on the hero, he used the distraction to escape the cage and retrieve his sword. Sparrow ducked a new swipe from the next Balverine, using the position to swing his blade upward, slicing the monster in half. The remaining Balverine raised it's hand into the air, a large flame started and dispersed, creating a flash that blinded the hero. Sparrow felt a thud hit his chest and was pinned down by the Balverine, the creature opened it's mouth ready to bite into the hero. As it prepared to attack, Sparrow obtained his gun and fired it inside it's mouth. While the creature roared in pain, he pushed the Balverine up. Forming a flame spell, Sparrow grabbed onto the beast's neck and forced the fire into it's throat. He held it for a few moments and released his grip.

Dropping his weapons, Sparrow fell to his knees and slouched back against the nearest wall, bleeding out on the floor. Garth approached him, his own wounds somehow missing, giving a smirk to the injured hero.

"I'm impressed, those creatures are strong enough to destroy a small army single handed, to kill three shows excellent skill."

"Yeah thanks," said Sparrow, giving a weak laugh through heavy breaths, "though Garth, after this... is all over, we... _really _need to have a discussion about what you do with your free time." Garth's smirk vanished as he grunted in a response. He pulled one of the blue vials off of his belt and tossed it to him. Opening the vial caused a foul stench to leak out, Sparrow quickly forced it down. He soon regretted it as it felt like his chest was boiling his insides. During the pain though, the cuts in his chest glowed a bright blue, as the pain increased the cuts shrunk and healed until only small scars were left.

"There, you're better. Let's continue, we are almost there." A groan was his response as he got up and followed Garth. They reached an even larger room. The room appeared to be dug from an existing cave, with large bodies of water spread across different sections. Small rock paths were the only way across.

As they crossed the waters Sparrow had a nagging feeling strike the back of his mind, a sickening experience that felt like it was slowly draining him. His thoughts were soon broken as a large rumbling shook the chamber. From the corner of his eye, he noticed the rocks at the side of the wall moving, out of nowhere the rocks jumped to life. The rock troll charged forward at the heroes, catching them off guard. In the confusion Sparrow was struck by one of it's massive arms, throwing him across the chamber. Landing sharply against the rocky walls, he collapsed into the dark water.

Sparrow was soon swallowed into the depths, slipping in and out of consciousness. As his body sank to the floor, the uneasy feeling returned. The cold darkness swarmed his senses, as if the world itself had lost it's light. Despair was settling into his heart as his thoughts were being overwhelmed. Already at his breaking point and any longer he would be gone. Soon though, the mupheld cries of the troll and Garth filled his hearing and Sparrow was quickly snapped back to his senses.

Garth had already destroyed half of the troll's tendrils when Sparrow made it back to the dry path. Against two heroes the troll stood no chance and was finished off with little effort.

"What happened back there, are you alright?" Asked Garth, concern filling his voice.

"Nothing, just...just a little rattled. Let's just finish this, I've had enough of this place." They then continued down the path and exited the room. The final room was the smallest they encountered. Despite the size, the room was filled with different assortments of strange contraptions. Items Sparrow had never seen before were hung on the walls and ceiling, others sat on pedestals with glass coverings. In the far end of the room sat a small pedestal with an even smaller box laying on it. Garth opened the box, Sparrow peered over his shoulder to inspect the contents.

What looked like a small leather glove laid inside. Sparrow's eyes went wide.

"That's it?" He said, with a mix of irritation and surprise. "All that for a piece of clothing?" Garth just huffed a sigh of annoyance and tossed the glove to him.

"Go ahead, put it on." Upon further inspection, the glove had more detail then he had thought. The material was much more resistant then leather and warm to the touch, while it was decorated with different kinds of metal tools and a small disk sewn into the glove's palm. The glove slipped on easily enough, a strap at the bottom allowed him to tighten it. As soon as it was on though, the glove tightened even more and started burning his skin.

Sparrow didn't have time to panic as he felt a powerful surge of energy go from his hand and go through his entire body. The rush forced him to his knees, the Will lines across his body shined as bright as a star. He stood back on his feet as the feeling died down, though again he almost panicked when he saw his arm. His entire forearm had burst into flames, but he soon calmed down as he noticed the flames came from the palm of the glove.

"Wow." Was all he could say as he tried weaving his Will through the flames. Garth couldn't help but shake his head as the hero appeared like a child with a new toy.

"It's called a Will Gauntlet, powerful Will users long ago created them as ways to focus their power and store their experience. That one is of my own design, though it's not perfected yet, my own experience in fire was all I have been able to create. Your power will increase dramatically as you get used to it, maybe even enough to deal with Jack." Sparrow soon had more control over the flames and was able to extinguish his arm.

"Well, we have our weapon, let's get back to the Guild." Garth agreed and they soon vanished away back to the sanctuary, the strange feelings becoming the last thing on his mind. Though soon he would find out what those feelings truly meant...

**A/N: Alright! Who else thought this would take another month... yeah...But yeah, this chapter was a lot nicer to work on seeing as how I wasn't as stressed out, as well as having more chances to actually work on it. Though damn, it became a lot longer then I thought it would be, figured the experiment chamber would be a lot shorter. Then I got the Balverine idea, and THAT lasted a good chunk. **

**But the idea of them having to fight escaped experiments of Garths seemed like a likely occurrence. Not sure what to call those freaky crystal creatures yet, though it's not that important. I doubt they'll ever come back, though you never know, all those years of Garth being away, something might have escaped...**

Anyway, if anyone is having problems with the length of some of these chapters, just mention it. If it bothers enough I'll probably start breaking them down into smaller bits, seeing as how I could of easily chopped this into two parts. But as usual read and enjoy, reviews are appreciated and will always keep enthusiasm up.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter: 10**

A second time. A second time Jack sat at the temple's table, preparing for the mask's ritual. And a second time he drew his own blood, making the same symbol on the Queen's mask as he did with the Knight's.

Both masks sat before him, a demanding aura flowed between them. Jack could only look at them with disgust, remembering the many years under the Queen's rule and the indignity of being compared to the Knight.

He still didn't like the idea, but the Court's return was apart of his plans. The memory of the hero's attack still lingered in his mind. The cut across his mask now repaired, giving a stitched line across the face, like a piece of stitched cloth. But through his plans, the hero's pain would far exceed his own and Albion would be in his grasp.

Grabbing the masks, Jack left to the main chamber. There, two Minions stood guard over the entrance to a branching chamber. The snarling beasts became noticeably fearful as their master turned his gaze to them.

"Bring them to me now." He commanded, the Minions turned and went inside the chamber they guarded. While alone, Jack raised his arms over the empty chamber. A dark power grew and a circle of black runes became etched into the stone floor.

The Minions soon returned, dragging behind them two people. They were a man and woman, both bound by black chains, their faces covered in dirt and sweat. The Minions placed them into the circle and left. Jack stood over them both, holding the masks above them. Through their eyes, the prisoners could only see the intensity in the demon's eyes as the rune filled masks were placed over their faces.

As the room darkened, the two prisoner's grunts and cries died and their movements froze. The chains binding them shattered as the air swirled over them. Their bodies rose off the ground, the air moving faster and faster. The black shadows being cast into the room grew, they grew and stretched toward the prisoners, being absorbed through them. Suddenly, a black flash filled the chamber. The flash soon faded and in the place of the prisoners stood two beings, as dark and malevolent as Jack.

"Welcome back, Knight and Queen of Blades!" Jack's evil laugh echoed through the Sanctuary over his own success.

The Knight, like any other, was dressed in a full body suit of plate armor. The black armor was decorated with red designs and spikes. Large plates sat on his broad shoulders with serrated spikes crossing outward, a tattered red cape was draped behind him. On his head sat a helm, decorated in the same fashion as the rest of the armor, his white mask being used as it's faceplate. The Knight himself was large, almost twice the size as Jack himself, a being of pure strength.

The Queen's attire lived up to her name. She wore a fine robe, red and black designs decorated around it. The top had a large collar that circled around the back of her head, going from shoulder to shoulder. Her white mask and a tall golden crown were all that stood on her head, allowing her flowing silky black hair to drape down.

They both looked around them, gaining their bearings. Soon their gazes were locked onto Jack.

"Jack? W-where are we?" Asked the Knight, his voice filled with evil like Jack's, but his own was much deeper, matching his size.

"Albion." he answered, "Many years have passed brother, the world has changed since you've been gone."

"Albion? Then where is Black?" The Queen asked, her own voice was more feminine, seductive yet ruthless. Jack turned to her and laughed.

"He still walks these lands, hiding away from the mistakes he has caused. His threat has long since passed, but the legacy he created still exists in the form of heroes."

"Heroes?" she asked.

"Yes, mortals who held a small bit of the power Black himself once had. Now though there are only four to deal with, their power however is still nothing compared to our own. But, there is one very special hero, Black's damned blood flows deep within him and his power shows it." The Knight just shook his head, looking Jack in the eyes.

"So you brought us back for what? To help you deal with a simple mortal? Black wasn't even strong enough to defeat us, it wasn't until you gave him that cursed blade of yours did he accomplish it. I'd say your just pathetic like you always were Jack." A low growl vibrated from his throat as his deadly gaze looked into the Knight's.

"Don't test me Knight, I brought you back out of loyalty to our Queen. But I would have no problem with taking you back out of this world." The Knight just laughed at him.

"Don't be a fool Jack, you know as much as I do that the laws of the Void prohibit us from attacking each other."

"Enough!" The Queen demanded, "We have returned, it is time we retake these lands and continue what we started with all those years ago." The Knight stepped away from Jack, who approached his Queen.

"I am sorry my Queen, but as I have said, this hero will prove to be a problem. We need to take our time with this. I have put together the right plans to take Albion and destroy these heroes. Preparations must be made first however." The Queen contemplated it for a moment before answering.

"Very well Jack, what must we do now?"

"First, we must go and visit an old plan of mine, it has been waiting centuries for us and it is time we put it to good use. Then, we will destroy this hero from the inside out, starting with his heart."

**A/N: Well there you all have it, the return of the Court in the fic Return of the Court, now they will try to retake their lost lands, will Sparrow... *cough* okay yeah, I'm not going to go that far... So anyway, YAY a new chapter. I'm pretty sure this will be the last Jack based chapter, though I wont be a hundred percent on it. Dunno why, not really that happy with this chapter. Whatever though, it's mainly to help the story along, they'll get better. So, hope you all enjoyed it so far.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter: 11**

Garth, Sparrow, and his dog, all walked into the Chamber of Fate, confidence renewed over their success. There, as usual, waited Theresa. Hammer was with her as well, her mood changing to excitement as she noticed the two heroes.

"So you found your weapon?" she asked. Examining them both for anything new, she noticed the cuts and blood on their clothing. "What happened to you?" Sparrow then noticed it too and gave her a smile.

"Well, uh, we were playing with Garth's 'pets'." He turned his smile to Garth who just rolled his eye and looked away. "But yes, we did find something." he said, holding up the gauntlet and releasing a powerful stream of fire with little effort.

"Hmph."she muttered, crossing her arms. "Well that's lovely, now we don't have to worry about fighting Jack in the dark." Theresa, who had been watching, approached them.

"That power will prove to be useful Hammer. And now that you are back we can begin on a new plan." Sparrow looked around him, noticing that something was missing, or someone.

"Where's Reaver?" he asked. Hammer just looked down, shaking her head in disgust.

"He left shortly after you did, visiting 'old friends'." A small gasp was all he left out as he looked at the floor in disgust too. The small pit in his stomach growing slightly, another innocent would have their years cut short.

"Can we trust him? For all we know he is betraying us to Jack as we speak." said Garth, he still didn't like the pirate and the Will user was never that trusting.

"Do not lose faith between yourselves, Reaver knows Jack's threat more then any of you. He was, after all, born from the very village that feared him the most."

"And he was the one to destroy it." Sparrow retorted, a brewing resentment still stained the hero's opinion of him. Ever since the pirate forced him into a decision that still haunted his thoughts.

The Cullis Gate then started up and Reaver stepped into the Chamber, looking as young as ever. He immediately noticed Sparrow and Garth.

"Ah, there you two are, glad I could get back in time." he said, eying the expressions of his fellow heroes. "What? No ones happy to see me?" Sparrow approached him and looked deep into his empty, souless eyes.

"No," he said, putting his anger into his voice. "And why should we? Especially when we know you just got back from destroying another innocent life for your own selfish reasons." Reaver just gave his usual amused laugh.

"Don't try and preach to me Sparrow. Given the same situation, you would do the same thing and as I recall...you did." A glare and deep growl was all Sparrow responded with, he then turned to Theresa.

"Now that _he_ is here, what do we do now?"

"With the Court returning we will need to protect ourselves and this place. There is an old ritual that will do just that, but the proper ingredients must be acquired. Sparrow, you will need to go to Oakfield. There, you will have to obtain holy water from the monks, as well as a leaf from the golden oak." A bit of confusion hit the hero. Why him? Surely Hammer would want to go and visit her old home and be a better choice for the task.

"Uh..." He began, turning his gaze to Hammer, before Theresa stopped him.

"No, Hammer will have her own task to complete while your gone. The monks will not want to give away their holy water easily, but they are in your dept for what you did for them. They will honor it and aid you." Sparrow still felt confused about it, but Theresa had continually shown that she knows best.

"All right," he agreed. "I'll be back soon." With that he left, not waiting to hear what the tasks for his companions were.

* * *

The journey to Oakfield was uneventful, as it usually was. It was something that Sparrow became fond of quickly. Soon he reached the town, as simple as it always was. Jack's attack was a faded memory and Sparrow hoped it would stay that way.

The monks at the Temple of Light greeted him warmly. While at first, they showed suspicion towards him, they now treated him as if he was one of their own.

"Why hello, great hero Lionheart." greeted the current Abbott. Causing a smirk to cross the hero's face, the formality of his title was always a bit of sarcasm on the holy mans part. "What do I owe this wonderful intrusion during our prayer time?" An awkward pause soon built between them, before they both shared a laugh and shook hands.

"I'm glad you haven't lost your humor, Hammer's case must be an anomaly." They both shared another laugh before Sparrow's serious expression moved in. "I'm sorry to say that I have come on a heroic matter." The Abbot quickly showed his concerns knowing that it must be serious.

"Oh, well if the Temple can help you in anyway, then you will have our full support."

"Glad to hear it. If you recall, a 'demon' attacked Oakfield not long ago," the Abbot nodded, showing his attention. "Well, as it turns out, he is apart of a terrible problem that we will face. For the moment, we are acquiring... special items to be used to help us in this endeavor."

"We are but simple monks Sparrow, we do not own much, certainly not anything that could be used in aid of a hero." Sparrow first sighed in response as the Abbot didn't understand what he was implying.

"Well.." he hesitated. "I believe you do, for what we are planning, a leaf from the Golden Oak and some of your Holy Water is needed." The request had a visible effect on the monk. He turned away from the hero, thinking on what he was being asked. It held the same feeling as asking a mother for her child, but then the Abbot turned to him with a reluctant smile.

"Well, the Golden Oak is of no bother to us. The wind takes leaves everyday, but I am happy that you would ask us. As for your water," he reached inside his robe and pulled out a light blue vial, a clear liquid flowed inside, "I know you realize how much it means to us. But it is for the good of Albion, so I suppose Avo wouldn't mind giving to a hero who has given so much himself." The Abbot handed Sparrow the vial, who accepted it with gratitude.

"Thank you." he said, placing the vial with his supplies. He said his farewell and turned to leave when the Abbot stopped him.

"One thing, James promised to fix the leaks in our roof today, but we haven't seen him. While we know how he can be, if you are to run into him..."

"I'll be sure to kick him in the right direction." The Abbot smiled and gestured a farewell. Sparrow then made his way the Golden Oak, symbol of the village, which had grown considerably since he last laid eyes on it. A brief pause was taken in respect to Hammer's father before he plucked away a gold tinged leaf.

In the town's Inn, Sparrow searched for James. After getting no help from the keeper, he turned to head towards his home. While it wasn't apart of his friend's usual scheduling to stay inside the farm at this time, it also wouldn't be a first.

As Sparrow rounded the side of the sandy banks, he was preparing himself to deal with the Demon Door. Hearing its tales of its own lost loves and questions on the status of his wife. But what he saw was much worse.

To his horror, he didn't see the Demon Door, only what was left of it.

A large chunk of the stone door was cut away, revealing the portal it guarded. The face was chipped away in scattered places while the pieces littered the ground. Deep cracks came into what wasn't missing.

Fear gripped Sparrow as he saw it, knowing who did it and for what reasons. As he ran into the portal he heard a weak protest. He looked and saw the Demon Door still alive, barley.

"H-hero, I'm sorry. That... that man was too strong... and he f-forced me open. Black armor...white mask...black armor...white mask..." The Demon Door repeated itself until the cracks grew, soon they covered it's surface and the door crumbled away.

Without hesitation, Sparrow ran into the portal.

The inside was drastically changed. The infinite clear blue skies were dark and reddened. Half of the animals were slaughtered while the others cried in pain, waiting to die. And the house itself was demolished, pieces of it laid scattered across the land.

Sparrow desperately searched for any signs of his friend, nothing was found. Knowing he must still be alive brought no comfort as he knew how worse off his friend was. Then a darker thought hit him.

"Alex..." It was all he thought as he ran, going as fast as he could to his own home. Weaving a powerful Will spell into his legs, a dark hue of green glowed from them. The spell caused him to run faster then anything else, his dog barley able to keep up. Traveling merchants and villagers passed and faded by as he ignored all obstacles in his way.

With his set pace, it didn't take long to reach Bowerstone. Sparrow's fear rose as he saw the empty streets of the market. Something had to of happened. Reaching the Old Town he saw more empty streets, even clear of guards. As he approached the area of his house, he saw it surrounded by the town guards, it was then his fears were realized.

The world seemed to slow and freeze around him, following the stop of his own heart. He pushed past a mob of guards and saw what had transpired. Everywhere, the bodies of guards were strewn about. Large cuts in some, others were in pieces. His own house was as much a mess inside as it was out. More cuts into the wood, items covering the floor, and portions of the second floor caved in.

Sparrow's world turned black around him. Grief and guilt struck the hero down, bringing him to his knees. It was all his fault, he caused it. Provoking Jack was his doing. Even his own heart tried warning him in Garth's lab as he understood what it meant, yet he ignored it when he could have possibly saved them. All he could do was be angry with himself, but grief dominated over the hate and he found himself crying. No sound came from the hero, but his body trembled, shook, and quivered. It was the third time the hardened hero had ever fallen into his current state, but the others were both as a child.

A firm hand gripped Sparrow's shoulder, pulling him back to the normal world. Looking up, he saw a grey haired man in a sheriff's uniform looking him in the eyes, an old childhood friend.

"I'm so sorry Sparrow," said Derek. Having known the hero and his wife well, the old sheriff felt grief as well, but not nearing the amount that was brewing within his friend.

"Wh-what...happened?" Sparrow asked breathlessly, the air from his lungs being drained by his tears.

"None of us really know, there were no civilian witness and no survivors. I just wish I could have arrived sooner. Many good men were slaughtered. Thankfully though, your wife is not apart of them." Sparrow stood up, cleaning his face and looking the sheriff deep in the eyes.

"Thankfully?" His voice rising with anger. "Jack has her, she is far worse off now then she would be dead!" In a cry of anger, he formed a powerful flame spell and threw it across the house, turning the area to ash instantly.

"I'm sorry, I should have done something." Sparrow calmed down slightly and returned the grip on the man's shoulder.

"Don't be, you would have just ended up like the others. And maybe I would have as well." Derek was about to protest against the notion but Sparrow stopped him. "Whats done is done, all I can do now is do what I can to get a hold of him. Then, I'll tear him apart." Without waiting for a goodbye, Sparrow placed his hand to his belt and disappeared to the Chamber.

* * *

Sparrow entered the Chamber, noticing his companions standing with Theresa. They all turned to him as he approached, all noticing the dark emotion written on his face.

"What's wrong?" asked Hammer. Not getting an immediate answer as Sparrow put the water and leaf on the table beside other objects he had no interest in detailing.

"He has them." he then answered, earning questioning looks from the other heroes. "Alex and James!" he bellowed, his voice echoing across the ruined halls.

"No..." she said, a whisper in her shaking voice.

"Do not let this affect your judgments Sparrow." stated Theresa, gaining the attention of the hero. "He would have taken them to use against you and then have no reason to kill them." She went to the table and picked up the items. Placing them all in the center of the chamber. "Reaver?" The pirate handed her a black leather bound book. "This may take some time to prepare, but the results will be tremendous." Flipping through the pages, she stopped at one point and began moving the items in specific places. Everything had a place and she began looking into the book again.

The temperature of the Chamber suddenly dropped dramatically, the shadows grew larger, and the torches dimmed. From the darkness emerged three figures. Immediately Jack was recognized and they realized who the others were, the rest of the Court.

"These are those so called heroes?" asked the Queen, eying the four up and down. Jack merely nodded.

"Yes, but the three are nothing," he pointed to Sparrow, "it is that one who holds the Archon's blood." In response, Reaver gave an amused grunt, he pointed his pistol and fired into the Court. The bullet phased through them, an echo of its impact sounded from the other side of the chamber. Reaver gave another grunt of amusement.

"So this is the powerful Court I keep hearing about? Too afraid to show up in person? I would be more offended if it wasn't so amusing." Sparrow pushed Reaver aside and approached the Court. Looking into Jack's yellow eyes as he tried controlling his anger.

"Where are they?"he said, his voice both level and stern.

"Don't worry about them hero." Jack's voice as taunting as ever. "They will be fine as long as you do nothing against us, but know this hero. If you defy us long enough, I'll make sure they both die by your hands." Sparrow lost control of his anger again, a loud yell showed it as he swung his sword through the image of Jack. Each slice did no more then if he attacked a puff of smoke. The concept soon hit him as he stopped, knowing he couldn't do anything. The Queen was watching it with interest, running a hand through her black hair.

"This one is feisty isn't he, all that energy, reminds me of Black." She gave a girlish giggle to the hero who only turned away in disgust. "I am intrigued Jack, send those beastly servants of yours as a test for them, we can see how well they fare." Jack turned to her and knelt in obedience.

"Yes my Queen." And with that, the images of the Court faded away and the Chamber returned to normal. The normalcy was short lived as the Chamber began shaking wildly, from the floor sprouted dozens of stone hands, they grabbed onto the floor and pulled themselves out.

"Defend yourselves," Theresa warned them, "I will prepare the ritual." She took the black book and focus her power on the items in the center.

The snarling Minions soon filled the Chamber, it became apparent that the small remains of the platform wouldn't hold them in a battle.

Garth created a solution quickly, he forced a Will spell into the ground and a thick sheet of ice grew across the Chamber, closing the gaps. The spell even trapped a few Minions still climbing from the floor. A quick swing of Hammer's weapon shattered their iced frames.

The Minions kept coming though, Garth and Hammer had the easiest luck fending them off. Their stone armor didn't last against a massive hammer or magical spells. But Sparrow's sword and Reaver's pistol proved less effective. The Minion's attack furiously, after one attack was blocked, their double sided spears would swing in the other direction.

Reaver kept firing into the crowds, his shots only creating small holes and cracks. As he dodged another swing, he unsheathed his sword and struck it into the holes he created in their armor. Roaring in pain, the Minion collapsed on the floor dead.

The ice proved more helpful to Sparrow. Dragging his blade across the surface, cracks were cut in and shattered the ice under the Minions, causing them to fall into the black abyss below them.

Even with their success, the Minions kept coming and coming. There was no end in sight and the heroes were growing tired from the ones they managed to destroy.

While they fought they didn't noticed the power building in the center with Theresa, a large blue flame had ignited and began growing. The flame grew larger until it discharged into the air. The fire circled , the room, as it touched the Minions they began to shake and burst into flames. Their bodies disintegrated into ash.

The heroes took a moment to rest and mull over their victory. A loud crack soon ruined the moment as the ice floor they stood on began collapsing. Moving faster then when they fought the Minions, they all jumped towards the center. Reaver tried running and slipped, falling through a newly formed hole. Thankfully for him, Sparrow caught his arm. Pulling the pirate up and giving him one of his biggest smirks.

"Don't think this means I owe you anything." His calm demeanor gone as he glared at Sparrow, who just walked away, still smirking.

Sparrow examined the black tome that was used. He had never seen anything like it, just holding it gave a deep depressing feeling. His hand ran over the cover, a metal seal of a roaring dragon was in the center. Flipping through the pages showed different rituals for multiple purposes, one page in particular stood out. The writing wasn't something he could understand, but the first page showed an illustration of a black seal, he recognized it as the seal of the Shadow Judges.

"Where did this come from?" he asked, turning his questioning gaze to Theresa.

"It was the item that Reaver was requested to obtain." Sparrow didn't know if she knew what the book fully contained, or if she didn't care. Reaver grabbed the tome from Sparrow's grasp.

"Yes, and it is still my property, so I'll be taking it back." He tucked the book away beneath his clothing. Sparrow was about to press the matter when a powerful pain struck into his head.

Images of his wife and James flooded into his mind. Doubling over in pain, he rolled on the floor in agony. Pulling at his hair while it felt as though his head was splitting in two. Hammer and Garth both stood over him, trying to help and see what was wrong. They soon found the reason as a deep, taunting voice echoed through the chamber.

"Hero, come on out and face me. Think of how your pathetic wife and friend must feel, their hero cowering before the might of the Court." The pain abruptly stopped, Sparrow stood up while the voice continued to taunt him. The pain he felt earlier was quickly replaced with rage.

"Sparrow, he is trying to draw you out." said Theresa, warning him. "You can not defeat him now, you will fail." But Sparrow ignored her and ran out into the Cullis Gate.

Hammer and Garth were on his tail when they ran into an invisible barrier, blocking them from following him. They turned to Theresa who just shook her head.

"No, he has chosen this path. And he will have to learn from it alone."

* * *

Sparrow stood on top of Hero Hill, looking down on Bowerstone Lake, he saw one of the Court. It was the Knight, his shadow silhouetted against the open fields. Sparrow leaped from the rocky tower and landed before the armor clad monster. His own anger blocked away any chances of fear or intimidation that threatened to take him.

"There you are hero, or as I know you like to be called, Sparrow." chuckled the Knight. Sparrow unsheathed his blade as threateningly as he could, pointing the tip at the Knight.

"Who are you, and where are _they_?" he demanded.

"I am the Knight of Blades, loyal member of the Court under our Queen's rule. As for your friend and woman... I'll give you a chance to find out. If you manage to defeat me, I will tell you where they are." The response did nothing to lessen the wrath that Sparrow held, he was planning to destroy this demon regardless if he told him or not.

"So be it." said Sparrow, still brandishing his blade. The Knight gave a short laugh and held out his arm.

From his gauntlet, a thick black smoke seeped out. It flowed around his arm and to his hand, taking form. Growing thicker by the second, the Knight gripped onto the smoke causing it to solidify. The object in his hand appeared as a hilt to a sword, the smoke continued, forming the length of a blade.

To Sparrow's surprise, the smoke kept growing. The blade must have been a longsword. After the smoke stopped adding to the length, the width started to grow. Reaching farther then the hilt, the smoke grew and grew until a massive red and black blade was in his hands. The behemoth of a sword was almost as large as the Knight himself.

Astonished for only a moment, Sparrow took no time in making the first move. He jumped forward, throwing a ball of fire and swinging his blade down on the armored fiend. The attacks barley left a scratch on the Knight's armor. His large blade came down hard at the hero, who had only a chance to dodge it.

Their battle raced forward, Sparrow was soon put on the defensive while he tried blocking and dodging the powerful swings of the Knight. Even with the bulky size of the Knight and his sword, it didn't slow him in the slightest.

A sloppy jump dealt a blow to Sparrow as the Knight's blade found a mark. It sliced across his side, scraping against his ribs. In pain, the hero fell to his knees, clutching at the wound as his blood poured out onto the grass.

Taking advantage in the heroes drop in guard, the Knight raised his sword high and brought it down on him. Luckily, he saw it coming and was able to raise his own sword to block it. The loud echo of metal to metal rang out, but it wasn't the sound of Sparrow blocking the Knight's attack. The Knight's own blade sliced through the hero's like butter, splitting the weapon in half.

The attack continued as the sword came down on the hero and sank deep into his shoulder. A cry of pain escaped the hero as the cold metal broke through bone and muscle. A triumphant cheer came from the Knight, he brought his heavy leg up and kicked Sparrow square in his chest. The hard force threw the hero several feet backward.

Sparrow knelt down on his knees, unable to feel his arm, and gasping for air. Having the wind knocked out of him.

"What a pathetic fool," the Knight said, laughing at him. "I can hardly believe that Jack sees any form of threat in you. I suppose even the powerful blood of the Archon can become diluted with time. No wonder you failed in protecting your woman and friend, they deserve their fate." Another cry came from Sparrow, not from his wounds, but from his own anger.

Sparrow took what was left of his weapon and charged at the monster. A sloppy, foolish attack, that the Knight was ready to counter. The Knight swung his sword at Sparrow, but the hero was quicker, sliding on his knees and avoiding the horizontal cut that flew above him. Sparrow rose up in front of the Knight and stabbed his sword into his heart.

The feeling of victory should have been washing over the hero, but it did not. Only horror struck at him as he saw his foe still standing. The blade through his chest showed no effect, even blood was absent from the wound. The Knight just cackled madly.

"Did you honestly think that this splinter would kill me?" He raised one of his large hands and brought it down onto Sparrow's wounded shoulder, shattering what bones that were still intact. The Knight then grabbed him by the neck, his hand hardly able to wrap around his throat.

It would be so simple. The Knight could end the hero's life with just a flex of his fingers. But he wanted to make the pain last, he wanted to take it as slowly as possible and force Sparrow to feel every crack and break in his neck. The grip tightened and Sparrow could feel the pressure building.

Darkness surrounded the hero as the pain and blood loss took their tole on him. His life flickered on and off as his neck was brought to it's breaking point.

Before the cold black death permanently closed over the hero, the blackness changed. The darkness turned to light and the black turned to blue. For a moment, Sparrow felt weightless and the grip on his throat disappeared.

* * *

Opening his eyes, Sparrow looked into the face of Theresa, her expression of disappointment and sadness. He didn't have long to dwell on it as the pain didn't leave him, he crawled across the stone floor to the table and rested against it. Hammer and Garth both stood beside him, trying to keep him conscious and alive. Theresa approached him as well.

"Do you see now Sparrow? You can not let your emotions control your own blade. If you want to save your wife and friend, then you must learn restraint or you will die and the Court will succeed. They will be dealt with in time, but we must do what is necessary." She knelt down over him and ran her hands over his wounds. Slowly, the pain began to go away and Sparrow allowed himself to close his eyes and drift off.

**A/N: Yay an update. Another one of those, is bigger then I expected, chapters. A lot of jumping around too... ahh well. Though really, dunno why, but I've started getting a bit paranoid about my chapters. Ya know, like somethings wrong or missing, something like that... **

**So as usual, hope your enjoying everything so far. Make a review if you feel generous, always makes me happy. Maybe say how your liking it or if there are parts you don't. Yadda yadda... **


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter: 12**

A frustrated Knight rejoined his fellows in the Shadow temple. The Queen was examining her surroundings while Jack kept his eyes locked on an old tome, he adverted his gaze when he heard the Knight's arrival.

"So the incompetent Knight returns." said Jack, in an obvious mocking tone. "I see you failed in your attempt to destroy our hero."

"The coward disappeared as I was about to kill him." the Knight argued. The escape of the hero made him tense, Jack's mockery didn't help.

"Of course he did, that gypsy guardian of his has plenty of tricks hidden in that dress of hers."

"We should have destroyed them all when we first saw them, now they are hiding in that Chamber of theirs and with that ward on it, we can't get to them." Jack shook his head, the Knight's arrogance seemed to have grown during his absence.

"That's precisely the plan, if we were to have attacked then they would have ran. Let them think hiding in plain sight will protect them. When the time comes for us to control Albion, then we will know exactly where to find them." The Knight just grunted, rolled his eyes, and turned away. The Queen had lost interest in her inspections and turned to Jack.

"I am returning to the Void, these holdings aren't fit for vermin much less someone of my stature. Hopefully our absence hasn't affected our home too much. I will be awaiting your returns as well, I don't want any more detours from either of you." They both gave a bow and the Queen opened a black gateway, she stepped through it and disappeared.

After her departure, the Knight approached Jack.

"So, Jack." he said, a hint of curiosity in his words. "What are you planning?"

"Excuse me?" he asked, not taking his eyes from the tome or acknowledging his question further.

"I know you too well Jack, you aren't one to just choose a path and take it. You plot. You scheme. And most importantly, you plan. 'Plans within plans', I recall you saying once. Looking at all possible outcomes and taking the steps to counter them. So I ask you, what are you planing?" Jack just laughed, still not fully giving the Knight attention.

"You assume I have any to begin with." he responded, putting away the tome and locking eyes with the Knight. "But if I did, you have nothing to worry about. If the unexpected were to happen and my 'plans within plans' are needed, then you won't be around to be apart of it. And by the way," he motioned to his chest. "you have a little something on your armor."

The Knight then noticed it, Sparrow's broken blade, still jetting out from his chest. With the simplest motion possible, he pulled the blade free. Still dripping with his blackened blood, the Knight examined the blade.

"Pity." he said. "This looked like a fine blade." He held the sword over Jack's gaze. "You see this? This is the power of that hero, the remaining power of Black. You may think you control everything Jack, but now that we are back, we aren't going anywhere." He crushed the blade in his hand and walked away. A new black portal opened and he disappeared inside.

"We shall see." Jack muttered, before follow the Knight into the portal.

**A/N: Yeah, shorty short chapter. Now though, I'm like 98% sure this will be the last bad guy oriented chapter. Just feels like a good ending for it. Dunno why though, I kinda liked doing them. But, I was sorta running out of ideas for them (if this chapter doesn't clue you in on it).**

So yeah, next chapter and beyond will be normal...Probably...


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter: 13**

Black nothingness.

It was all Sparrow could see, no idea where he was or why. A feeling of familiarity crept itself into his stomach as he examined his surroundings. Black and blank. What seemed like an endless void that stretched onward with no indication of stopping.

A cold chill was the only thing he could feel. Each breath he let out showed itself in white mist. Standing still threatened to freeze him, the longer he idled the more the ice formed in his heart, so he kept moving. Going straight, not looking back.

His own echoing footsteps were all he could hear, no ambient noise dared to disturb the unnatural silence.

Sparrow wasn't sure how long he had been walking, he wasn't sure on a lot of things. He didn't even know if he was going anywhere, just moving forward.

Just as Sparrow felt he would lose his mind, something happened. Large clouds of white mist circled around him, he could feel the cold breeze swirl through every part of his body. The mist grew and took form before him, taking the shape of three figures

The three forms looked ghostlike in appearance. Sparrow had no idea who they were, but their clothing depicted a recognizable symbol, the seal of the Hero's Guild. All they did was stand there, their ghostly eyes stared at him. It felt as though they could see into his own soul, he was too frightened to move or turn away.

After what felt like an eternity, the three spirits turned their heads and pointed off into the distance. Sparrow followed their gaze and saw what they were pointing to. A large stone pedestal stood out, in contrast to the infinitely empty world around it.

Looking at the pedestal, Sparrow could only see a smooth surface on the top. He didn't have long to question the reason when he noticed a small dagger laying next to it. Etched across the blade as the word "Offering". Realizing what it wanted, he ran the blade across his hand. As the cut started bleeding, he dragged his palm on the surface of the pedestal. The blood slid down and started forming words.

_Walls of trees and doors of water._

_Blood will be spilled and tests will be taken._

_A guardian awaits and two gifts will be given._

_One a tool, the other already owned._

Sparrow continually read the inscription, having no idea what it meant. As he began grasping the words in his mind, the pedestal cracked. In a matter of seconds, the pedestal crumbled to bits. Immediately after, large trees shot from the ground, growing all around him.

While the trees surrounded him, the ground under Sparrow began shaking. Before he could run, the floor shattered and the hero found himself falling into the endless void.

* * *

Sparrow gasped for air, his body was drenched in a cold sweat.

The hero looked around him, he was in a room he didn't recognize. It was a circular room, different doorways opened around him and a large map of Albion sat in the center. Blue covered the floor, while a small bed was on the floor where his dog was sleeping soundly.

With a great deal of strain, he sat himself up. His chest was bare, showing the bandages that covered his body, a sling held his injured arm in place.

Beside him was Hammer, slouching over a chair, fast asleep. Sparrow couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. However the action also forced a groan of pain from the hero and caused Hammer to wake.

"huh..." she noticed Sparrow was up, almost leaping out of her chair to see him. "Sparrow, your awake!" The excitement startled his dog who also barked with joy, running to his master and giving him an attack of wet licks.

"Yeah." Sparrow was able to get out as he pushed his dog away. After his dog was off, Hammer had grabbed him in a large hug. Only after a cry of pain from Sparrow did she let go.

"Sorry," she quickly apologized. "We were really worried for you." Sparrow just laughed as he attempted flexing his injured arm. "I'm serious, your lucky you didn't lose that arm. Theresa's magic did wonders on you."

"Maybe I just had a wonderful friend looking after me." he responded, with his usual smirk. The comment caused Hammer's face to redden as their eyes locked. Sparrow quickly adverted his gaze, focusing it on his surroundings. "So... where are we?" Hammer was about to answer, but before she could speak, footsteps were heard from one of the doorways inside the chamber.

"So, the prodigal hero returns to us. Good to see you've avoided the grave once again." Reaver stepped into the chamber, followed by Theresa and Garth. The latter showing joy upon seeing Sparrow.

"Your alright?" Garth asked, examining the bandages, some still coated with his blood.

"Never better." he said, still smirking. "Though I am wondering, where are we?"

"While you were out, we gathered a few things to help us against the Court." Sparrow raised his eyebrow in confusion, still not understanding. Reaver pushed Garth away, gazing on the hero.

"It's the Sanctuary, we just remodeled it a bit." More confusion fell over Sparrow, he took another look around the room. It made sense, both rooms were easily comparable. But the amount of time seemed impossible.

"H-how..." he trailed off.

"You were unconscious for almost two weeks Sparrow." Garth answered.

"Two weeks..." Sparrow was distraught, all the time that had passed, all the time the Court had against them. Wiping the sweat from his face, he noticed something was off. His hand was missing Garth's gauntlet and a bloody palm was bandaged. "How..." he tried saying, as his eyes widened.

"It was a few days ago." said Hammer. "A cut just appeared there, we have no idea where it came from." Hardly taking in the words, Sparrow just stared at his injured hand. It couldn't be possible, it was just a dream, nothing else. The change in the hero's mood was quickly noticed by Theresa.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, concerned.

"Walls of trees... doors of water..." he responded, his voice a small whisper. Everyone in the room was fixed on him, becoming as confused as he was. "I had... this dream. It was so real, three heroes pointed me to some sort of message, something about... gifts. But it can't be real, can it?"

"Stranger things have happened in this world." said Theresa. "Perhaps something, or someone, is trying to aid us."

"Or send us into a trap." Hammer added. Theresa shook her head.

"We can not be suspicious of everything, then nothing can be accomplished. We should find what this message means and seek it out." A pause filled the chamber as they thought on it. Soon, Garth snapped his fingers, figuring it out.

"Walls of trees, it must mean Brightwood. The message is suffering to a forest and Brightwood is the largest in Albion. It would be the most ideal to hide away something." Theresa nodded in agreement.

"Then it is settled, the four of you shall search Brightwood. Find what the meaning of this message is and hope it helps us." Immediately, Hammer started objecting to the idea.

"No way." she protested. "Sparrow can't go anywhere, he isn't fully healed, he can't even use his arm." Her protests were cut off by Sparrow's own laughter.

"Aw, come on Hammer, I thought you had more faith in me then that. Besides, I still have my good arm to use." He tried flexing his undamaged arm, getting loud cracks from the joints in response.

"Since it seems you are ready," began Theresa, "it's time you see the rest of the Sanctuary." They went into one of the doorways. The room was smaller then the center, shelves lined the walls, and stone statues stood in the back. Some statues wore various clothing, one in particular had Sparrow's coat and hat. He put them on, rolling up the empty sleeve on his side. A shelf on the side had his bag, already full of any supplies he would need.

They then entered a second room, it was identical in size and looks. Across the walls stood more stone statues, however, they were kneeling with their hands held above them. The first to the left held a sword in it's hands. Sparrow retrieved the blade and examined it. The sword was simple in quality, nothing special about it. Scrap compared to his old blade, but it was all he had. Another statue held Garth's gauntlet. Strapping it back on his hand, the same surge of power as before came through him.

"Alright," he said, "I'm ready."

* * *

The four heroes were deep in Brightwood. Having spent hours cutting their way through the dense forest.

"How much longer must we spend in this pit?" said Reaver, his complaints coming every hour on the hour. "We have been searching for this nothingness for hours, my priceless boots are caked with mud and dead foliage, the moisture in the air is damaging my hair, and my ears are starting to ring from the constant noise of these damned animals." He fired his pistol off into the bushes, the sound of scattering animals following. "Filthy creatures."

"Will you shut it Reaver!" Hammer yelled, her last nerve being struck "We are all getting tired, why don't you act like a hero and stop complaining like a child." Reaver just huffed to himself, but kept silent.

It was then that Sparrow's dog went frantic, barking madly and running in circles. As soon as the attention of the heroes were on him, the dog bolted off into the woods. They followed him, dodging trees and jumping over fallen logs.

A considerable time had passed, but the dog was still running and so were they. But the dog's speed began slowing. The sound of rushing water could be heard as they came upon a large open lake. A large cliff loomed over the lake, three different rivers ran off the side, creating waterfalls. The dog greedily drank the clear water.

"Looks like he could hear the water and just wanted a drink." Hammer said, kneeling over the side and consuming the water as well.

"Maybe." Sparrow commented, his eyes were fixated on the waterfalls. Another odd familiarity grew inside him, like he had been here before. "Doors of water..." He changed his gaze to Garth, he was also staring at the cliff side.

Garth then saw Sparrow and nodded, he placed his hand on top of the water's surface and a trail of ice grew from them to the other side. Sparrow walked across the icy bridge and the others followed. They made it to the side and Sparrow jumped into the waterfall, making no splash. The other heroes did the same.

On the other side of the waterfall was a cave, spacious enough to freely move around in and small enough to be perfectly hidden. But there wasn't just a cave. At the far end, a large stone door stood, the seal of the Hero's Guild in the very center.

**A/N: Well there. Another chapter, another update. Took a bit longer then I had hoped for though. God I really need to stop watching tv while I work on this, sidetracks me too much. Whatever, hope you all have enjoyed this chapter, as the "plot" thickens.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter: 14**

"And here I thought you had finally lost it Sparrow." commented Reaver, as they looked at the stone door.

"I'm as relieved as you are." Sparrow said, "Insanity doesn't sound pleasing to me." Reaver just smirked as they continued their inspection of the door. Besides the seal in the center, many runes and other symbols decorated the surface.

"Well," Hammer began, "we found it. Now lets try to open it." It was easier said then done. The door had no visible handle, no means of opening. It was as if it was carved out the rock itself.

Garth stood silent and motionless, examining the runes and markings for their meaning. Hammer pushed and pulled at the door, going as far as preparing to break it down, before Garth's reasoning stopped her. Reaver was, as usual, uninterested, standing away and rifling through his pockets. Sparrow just stared at the door, his eyes fixed on the Seal, his mind distant and busy. He then realized what to do.

Sparrow approached the door, keeping his eyes locked on the seal. Garth was using his dagger to poke in the sides of the door. Not noticing Sparrows approach, he was surprised as he bumped into him. Without a word, he took Garth's dagger and made a small cut across his chest. While the wound bled, he returned the dagger and ran his fingers through the red liquid.

The others were too shocked to say anything as he smeared the blood on the doors Seal. At first, nothing happened, but after a moment the blood glowed with a bright hue. It expanded on the Seal, fully covering it. The blood then grew around the door, filling in the different markings and forming a line from top to bottom on the center.

Loud rumbling could be heard from the door as the bloody line deepened. The door shook violently, causing cracks and breaks in the cave around them. Chunks of rocks broke and fell from the ceiling, almost crushing the heroes.

The shaking stopped and the doors slowly opened.

The first chamber behind the door hinted to the structure's making. The stone was pure and undamaged, despite the age. It seemed as though time had stopped for it. Statues of heroes lined the sides of the chamber and a large engraving of the Heroes Seal on the floor.

It didn't take long for the heroes to encounter resistance. Barriers that stood in their way, traps set to kill anyone who made a wrong move. For a few instances even the statues came to life, attempting to impede their progress.

They had just finished clearing out a large hallway when the door on the other side opened. Before they could walk to it, a loud creaking sound filled the room, the noise of stone against stone. The source became obvious as they saw the roof of the hall sliding down the walls. The heroes ran as fast as they could, the ceiling coming down faster and faster.

Sparrow, Garth and Reaver made it to the entrance. Hammer wasn't as fast, but was catching up. Before she could make it though, a new statue sprang to life and attacked, causing her to trip and fall. Without hesitation, Sparrow charged back into the halls. He fired his gun at the statue, quickly destroying it. The ceiling came down on them as he reached Hammer. She had closed her eyes, waiting for the quick pain of being crushed, then death. Nothing happened though. Opening her gaze, she saw Sparrow holding back the stone roof. He was pushed down on his knees, his back and arm were all that kept it from crushing them.

"Th-this is really heavy Hammer." he stated, his entire body trembling from the strain. Hammer was shocked into speechlessness. "Come on, hero of _Strength_!" The command snapped her back to reality. She pushed herself upward, pushing up on the ceiling with him. With her added force, the barrier stopped. As it felt like their strength would give out, the roof made a loud cracking sound. Before they could contemplate it, the stone started rising, finding its way back to its first position.

"Close one." Hammer commented, as they met back with Garth and Reaver, who only shook their heads while they continued through the different chambers. They then reached a new chamber, the largest so far. It was circular in shape, stone columns rose high to the ceiling, large torches hung from each pillar. Stone statues circled the room as well, each dressed in a blue hooded cloak and holding long staffs with a large curved blade jetting from the top.

"Doors..blood..and tests." muttered Sparrow, the inscription from his vision playing in his mind. "Keep your eyes open and prepare for some kind of guardian." But they saw nothing, the room was empty of anything else.

They crossed the room to the doorway at the far end. Despite the room being empty, they couldn't shake the feeling of a presence. Something that was with them, but still not. Making it to the center of the chamber, they were all compelled to stop. With no reasons to why, they just stood there, listening to the silence.

The heroes tried to keep moving, but to their shock they found themselves unable to. Like their feet were rooted to the ground, it soon became apparent that their bodies were stiffening. They struggled against it but to no avail. While they fought against their own impairment, they noticed that one of the statues were moving.

It stood over them, holding it's weapon out for a strike. While the blade came down, the statues arm burst into flames. The attack broke the heroes free, Garth threw another ball of fire at the statue. When the fire burned out, the sleeve of the cloak was burned away, showing golden armor.

The statue roared in anger and a powerful shock wave was produced, throwing the heroes away and across the chamber. Hammer recovered fast and charged at the attacker. Before Sparrow could react, the statue picked him up by the collar and threw him into the monk. Reaver began firing his pistol, the shots hitting the target but not slowing it down. Even Garth used his Will powers to send his blades flying, but the statue easily dodged them.

Sparrow and Hammer got up and charged for another attack, each attack from a different angle. The statue saw Sparrow and dodged his sword. It didn't notice Hammer and was struck hard in the chest, sending it flying into the air.

The statue suddenly stopped in the air. It rocketed straight downward, the impact caused the floor to crack upward. Chunks of rock came up, striking into the heroes. Sparrow was able to dodge most of the debris, but before he could think, their attacker swung it's weapon down on him. He had only a moment to duck the swing, bits of his hair fell from his head.

Sparrow engaged the statue, locking their blades together. The opponent was unyielding, quickly blocking the hero's attacks and countering.

Their attacks soon stopped however, the statue gained an upper hand and had it's curved blade against Sparrow's chest. The cold metal pierced his skin, a swift motion up would gut him. But Sparrow held his blade firmly, pointed into the statue's hood and onto it's neck. Neither of them moved, the other heroes could only watch and waited.

"Do it!" Sparrow commanded, his eyes locked onto the blackness inside the blue hood. "Finish me, but know you'll fall as well. Leaving my friends to take whatever you are guarding, either way you failed." His tone was steady and serious, prepared to die on the spot if it meant taking this guardian with him.

They both stood there, frozen in place. Neither one moved an inch, waiting for the others move. Sparrow could feel it's gaze on him, as if studying him for a bluff. Then, Sparrow heard a strange noise. It was a rough crackling sound, it kept a steady rhythm and to Sparrows own shock, he realized it was laughing.

It wasn't all, the statue spoke. "No, I don't think that is necessary." It removed it's hood and they could see that it was human, or somewhat. The person looked like a walking corpse, his skin was tightened around the bone, his lips were gone and revealed rotted teeth, and a blue cloth was wrapped around his head and nose. "You preformed better then I expected, hero." Confusion slammed into Sparrow like a heavy weight.

"Who..." he began.

"It can't be." Garth interrupted. The mysterious man shifted his gaze to the Will user, and nodded.

"I know that the Court has returned and with no Archon at the ready to stop them, you are all that stands between them and Albion's death." he pointed to the exit of the chamber. "Go there, alone. You will receive your reward." Sparrow did as he was told, leaving his friends and pet behind, he followed the pathway out.

"Whatever you are guarding better be worth it." Hammer commented. Another rough laugh came from the man. "Whats so funny?" she asked, annoyed.

"You assume I'm the guardian."

* * *

From the exit of the large chamber, Sparrow crossed a long hallway. No traps or enemies appeared to him, the path was empty and dark, but the doorway on the other side was clear. All he could feel was the nagging thought of everything being familiar to him. He had never set foot in such a place and yet, it was as if he had been there many times. Besides the familiarity he felt, he could sense something calling him. A force that had a leash on his own soul, pulling him forward down the hall.

After the hall he entered another large chamber, slightly small then the last. More pillars stood up to the roof, the Heroes Guild Seal was carved onto the floor. The most noticeable feature was at the far end. A massive mural made the wall. It showed a demonic dragon standing in fiery pits, roaring at it's attacker. The attacker was just a simple man, dwarfed in comparison to the monster, wearing silvery armor and holding his blade high in defiance.

A large gate slammed shut on the doorway Sparrow came through, he tugged hard on it but it wouldn't budge, he wasn't getting out anytime soon.

Then Sparrow felt a presence, he turned and looked. Standing under the mural was a figure, it's features hidden in the shadows of the room. Only it's outline could be seen in the darkness. It was slouched slightly, it's head dropped down. The gaze of the hero caused the figure to look up at him, it's eyes were a vacant glowing blue.

"Who are you." Sparrow demanded. The figure just kept it's eyes locked on him. Stepping closer into the light showed the figure dressed in a light blue armor and robes. It's face a pale white, like a ghost. Brandishing a short ax, the guardian assumed a fighting stance. Sparrow just shook his head. "Fine," he sighed, "if you want a fight, so be it." He tossed aside his coat and hat and held his blade.

They both charged into each other. Their weapons locked and they tried pushing the other down. The guardian swung it's leg into Sparrow's, smashing into his injured arm. A cry of pain followed as he dropped to the ground. Sparrow had to quickly recover when the guardian brought the ax down on him, he used his force spell to push him out of the way. He was shocked at the guardians speed. As he got up, it was already on him, slamming the ax's hilt into his back, sending him back to the floor.

Not getting a chance to fight back, Sparrow was picked up and pushed into the wall. A growl came from the guardian, not a feral growl, but out of anger and frustration. The guardian then ran the ax across his chest, cutting him slightly. While Sparrow grunted from the wound, he ran his sword through it's arm, forcing it to let him go. Placing his hand on it's armored chest, he released a flame spell that pushed the guardian further away from him.

It recovered faster then he anticipated. The guardian's hands began glowing and with a wave of it's arms, the room became filled with large orange blades. They floated around in the air, then all pointing at Sparrow, focusing on his movement. The blades then started to fly towards him, dodging and blocking all he could, sustaining slight cuts from a few. After there were no more blades, the guardian charged into Sparrow again. But Sparrow was quicker this time, side stepping the attack and driving his blade into it's back.

The guardian growled again, it pulled out the blade through it's body and dropped it. It stepped back and disappeared into the shadows of the chamber. Sparrow tried finding his opponent, but there was no trace. Then, the chamber darkened. The lights faded, leaving Sparrow unable to even see his own hand. As he tried navigating the room, a faint crying sounded behind him. When he turned, he saw a young girl crying softly to herself, Sparrow's eyes widened as he ran to her.

"Rose!" he shouted, falling to his knees in front of her. "How are you here?" The emotion overwhelming him. She just looked at him, tears still running down from her eyes.

"Why brother?" she asked. "Why did you let me die?" The question struck hard on the hero.

"What? Please Rose, you know I couldn't stop Lucien." She just shook her head.

"No!" she yelled. "It's your fault, it always was." She pushed him away and stepped back, shock written on the hero's face. Then next to her, appeared two more people. Alex and James.

"You failed to protect her, like you failed us." both of them said. Sparrow's mouth hung open, he stepped back away from them, not believing what he saw.

"Your fault." the three said, they repeated the words over and over, growing steadily louder. Sparrow covered his ears, trying to drown out the taunting noise, but still it filled his own thoughts. He could barley think, their voices slowly destroying him on the inside.

"Enough!" he shouted, releasing out the emotion that was pint up. A large wave of flames shot across the room. The images faded and all that was there was the guardian, it's robe had caught fire and it flailed around trying to put it out. Sparrow tackled into it and slammed it into the mural. The guardian countered with a powerful force push that threw the hero high into the air.

Sparrow grabbed onto one of the pillars to stop himself, he then jumped from the height towards the guardian. It was ready and threw it's ax at him, the weapon sank into his chest as he fell. The attack didn't stop him however and Sparrow landed on the guardian, bringing his sword through it's chest and pinning it to the ground.

Blinded by anger, Sparrow repeatedly stabbed his sword into it's chest. The abuse caused the blade to break off in the wounds. He tossed it away and removed the ax that was still stuck to him, bringing it down on the guardian's neck. Loud gargles of blood was the only sound that it made. When Sparrow started getting off of the dieing creature, it grabbed onto his shoulder. It wasn't a threatening grab, but to gain his attention. The guardian held his shoulder and pulled him closer.

"Th-thank you." it managed to choke out. Then it's eyes closed and remained silent. Sparrow got off it, it's words echoed in his mind. Although he had little time to ponder it when a loud cracking sound filled the air. The mural started breaking, the cracks grew upwards and the rock crumbled.

To Sparrow's surprise he saw that the mural was hiding something. A new chamber, made in the same look of the last, stood behind the ruble. Sparrow stepped into it, taking in each detail of the surrounding.

The only difference from the last chamber was a large stone monument in the center, four long blocks stood diagonal from each other, a statue of a person was laying on each. Small tablets stood before each.

Sparrow looked at the first one before him, reading what it had to say. Before he could finish, the tablet cracked and broke in half.

A white smoke rose from the tablet and formed in front of the hero.

**A/N: Allriiiight, another update, yippay. AGAIN this took a bit longer then I expected, but whatever, just happy it's getting done. So hope everyone is still enjoying this, blah blah blah, review it if you care, blah blah blah. Damn, these authors notes just repeat themselves don't they...**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter: 15**

A male figure was formed from the white mist. Obvious age of the figure was seen, dressed in full body plate armor. Bright shining silver in color. Sparrow took in the sight, the man seemed ghostlike, but still alive at the same time.

They both just stood there, Sparrow noted each detail of the figure before him and could see his eyes through the helm staring into him.

The figure then removed his helm and Sparrow's eyes widened in shock. He looked so similar to the hero, his face was aged and wrinkled, his hair was grayed. But to Sparrow, it was like looking at an older version of himself.

"It's good to finally meet you, Sparrow." he said, shocking the hero even more.

"You...you know who I am?" The spirit nodded.

"Who doesn't know of the famous Lionheart? Your exploits have proceeded you well. You have conquered the Tattered Spite itself, bested the weapons created by the Archons of the Old Kingdom, and saved the world from a repeat in history."

"It's not that impressive," he said doubtfully, "nothing compared to other heroes, like-"

"The hero of Oakvale?" the spirit inquired. Sparrow just nodded. "So... do you know why your here?" The hero stood silent for a moment, pondering the question.

"All I know is I was summoned by something, for a reason I'm not really sure about. But what I do know is that the Court has returned, they have my wife and friend, and I will do anything to save them." Heavy silence followed after Sparrow. The spirit stood there staring at him, when his face broke into a smile.

"Good answer," he said. The room then became a pitch black, the air became cold. Only the sight of the hero's ghost was noticeable in the chamber. His incorporeal form began to slightly fade, a white mist grew from the feet and swirled between him and Sparrow. It rose higher and started taking form. It branched out in four directions, the top curved inward slightly to make a handle, the left and right sides stopped short. The bottom branch was the longest, curving outward and ending on a point, at the point a split occurred that followed back down to the beginning branch.

It was a sword. Absent of any possible flaws or signs of use and age. The blade was a blueish silver, while the hilt was blue and tipped white. Perfect was too ugly of a word to use to describe the blade. The most beautifully crafted object that Sparrow had ever encountered. Almost instinctively, the hero wanted to reach out and grab it, but still held back for fear that his touch could taint such a pure blade. Its beauty wasn't all that it held, a large pulse of power radiated from it, like it's own beating heart.

"Avo's Tear." the spirit said. "An ancient blade with immense power. Currently, the most powerful weapon in the world. It allowed me to save Albion from Jack, when he tried using the power of the Bronze Gate. Now that the Court has returned, I'd say you need it more." Sparrow could barley hear the words, his attention still on the weapon floating before him.

"How can I use such a blade?" he asked. The spirit shook his head.

"You think too poorly of yourself Sparrow. One wrong does not foul the deeds of a hero such as yourself. Many great things you have done in your years, only a few times did you ever stray from the path of righteousness. I myself have done such as well. You have earned the right to wield this blade... Take it, as your own." Sparrow approached the sword, each movement was hesitant with uncertainty.

Gripping the hilt firmly, his hand warmed at the touch. As his grasp fully held the blade, a dramatic change fell over him. A serene sense of purity and hope replaced his anger and clouded mind. It was almost like the blade spoke to him, whispering holy words to the hero, urging him to stay on the right path. Sparrow swung the sword, gaining his feel of it's weight, length, and power. The ghost merely smiled at him.

"It's good to see that Slake's death was not in vain." The statement caused the hero to pause and turn to the spirit.

"Slake?" he asked. The spirit pointed to the chamber past them.

"The guardian you defeated. His name was Slake, the last Guildmaster of the Heroes' Guild." he said, pausing for a moment to collect his thoughts. "The sword was given to me to be used against Jack. The power wasn't something to be taken lightly. So, before I died, I returned to this monument to seal it back. When I died, I myself was laid alongside it with the greatest heroes Albion has ever known. As the other veteran heroes died, the younger generations were left with nothing. They had no true enemies, no powerful threats against their home. And as you know, it lead to their destruction. While the people attacked the guild, Slake knew it would fall. He needed to keep the sword safe, so it could be used again one day if needed. So with the help of a ancient ally, he used his power to transport our monument away. He then created this tomb, keeping the blade's resting place here." The spirit paused again, running a hand through his spectral hair.

"Slake blamed himself for what happened," he continued, his tone sounding more sympathetic. "He thought it was his own fault that the Guild became what it is now. The guilt tormented him endlessly. Even after his time was up, he couldn't leave this world in his state. Keeping himself alive through shear will power, he waited for the day that he could realize his choice was righteous and to know that saving the blade could redeem him. Your arrival and acceptance of the blade, proves that." Sparrow could just stare at the blade, feeling it's pulse of power as it silently spoke a melody of hope.

"So... is that why your still here too?" The question had a noticeable effect on the spirit.

"Well... I suppose... yeah." Another pause, while he looked down, his chest shifted up and down almost as if he was sighing. "Jack is like nothing you have ever seen. Twice I have killed him, and yet he has returned. His power is incomprehensible. But there is one thing he hates, maybe even fears. The blood of the Archon, William Black. The same blood that once flowed through my veins, the blood that now flows through yours." Sparrow shook his head, showing his attention.

"I know about that, it's why I have this power over the three virtues... why Lucien killed my sister..."

"Yes, and your blood was empowered the day you became a hero inside the Chamber of Fate. But there is still a deep well of power that is untapped within you. The power that very few of your ancestors have needed to experience. With it and Avo's Tear, you can stop Jack and save Albion." Before Sparrow could say anything, he felt his entire body shudder. Falling to his knees, he clutched at his temples. It felt as though his blood was boiling inside his body. A cutting pain flowed through him, he looked at his hands and saw his Will lines were cracking further across his body and deeper into his flesh.

Then the real power hit him, flooding into his mind was the true power of his blood. Before his own eyes were the memories of his long dead ancestors, their blood binding them all together. He could see their lives, their battles, each accomplishment that created them. Their experience combined with his own. His muscles hardened with new found strength, his senses and reflexes sharpened to a point he didn't think was possible, and a vast history of perfected Will abilities were mastered in an instant.

The rush against his body stopped. Sparrow took a glance around the room, noticing each detail in the second he laid eyes on it, hearing every miniscule sound that was made. Doubt was banished from his mind as he looked at the spirit of his ancestor. The ghost looked at the man before him, the scared child was gone, standing in his place was a true hero. Sparrow turned and began to walk away, realizing he had no more need to be there.

"Wait." the spirit called out, causing the hero to stop and turn his head. "Your power will account for nothing if you do not believe in yourself, remember that. And please, send my regards to my sister." And with that, he faded and disappeared. Sparrow continued out of the Chamber, stopping to retrieve his coat and hat.

There, Sparrow remember his still bandaged arm. Without giving it thought, he tore away the bandages to see his fully healed arm, only a few jagged scars hinted to what was once there.

The other heroes saw Sparrows return. But they didn't truly see their friend, they saw someone else. Someone who looked just like him, but whose presence was something they had never seen before. The heroes almost felt uneasy to be near him at first. They all stood in silence, the four heroes, the dog, and the statue made man.

"So," the statue said, eying the blade that hung from Sparrow's side. "Avo's Tear has made a return." Sparrow just nodded to him.

"So that will help us against Jack?" Hammer asked, her skepticism showing more.

"Yes." Sparrow said, his voice was serious, drained of any of his previous personality. Hearing it almost caused a shudder between the others. He then walked past his companions, hardly giving them a glance. Standing before the 'statue', he locked with the soulless eyes. "Thank you." he said flatly, lacking any hint of actual gratitude. He then turned away and went to the others. "Lets go."

"One moment hero." the statue said, as the heroes placed their hands on Sparrow. "When the time is right, we will meet again. And remember the name, Brightwall." Sparrow just gave a swift nod, then placed his hand on his Seal and they vanished in a flash of light.

**A/N: ARGH! Finally got this done, minds just been out of it a bit. Whatever. Chapters done, kinda short, not much going on. Really just meant for... plot purposes?... maybe. Hopefully people can tell what I mean by "statue" without spelling it out..**

**And we find out who Slake is. I really just assumed that Weaver would be dead by the time the Guild fell, so I made up my own master. Although this chapter and the last one were kind of a last minute thought.**

**When I first thought up of this story, I had planned on Sparrow just finding the monument of heroes in the ruins of the Guild. But, to me, I didn't think it made a lot of sense. So I made this poorly drawn out story to the monuments fate and a grieving guardian.**

**Ah well, chapters done, update is here. Hope everyone is still enjoying the story, now that Sparrows all buffed out, should be expecting some action soon.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter: 16**

The heroes returned to the Sanctuary. What should have been moment for celebration over their newest victory was turned into more uneasiness. It was from Sparrow, he did nothing strange, said nothing strange. But that was the problem. Immediately entering the Sanctuary, Sparrow was ready to continue the fight against Jack, not wanting to waste a second to rest.

"We need to find out about this Brightwall." he said, turning to Theresa who was waiting for them. "Do you know of it?" She eyed the blade at his side, knowing full well what it was, and what it could do.

"I do." she stated. "It's a small community to the east, the people are simple and keep to themselves mostly, relying on their own farm and the occasional trade between nearby villages for essentials. There isn't much more to be said about them. However, there are old stories that speak of the first Archon, leaving something in a tomb that Brightwall was built on top of." Sparrow was quick to contemplate the idea, and since he knew were the advice came from, it was a safe bet.

"So how do we get there?" he asked, being quick to the point. Theresa noticed it, the dramatic change in the previously cocky hero.

"The map should be able to take you to Mistpeak, a mountain range very close to Brightwall." Theresa replied, pointing to the map sitting in the center. Sparrow was already at it, looking it over. "Sparrow." she argued, only earning a slight glance in response. "I suggest you dress more accordingly, the cold winds are said to cut through to the bone."

Sparrow looked down at himself, wearing nothing but his thin coat on his chest, and torn pants on his legs. He gave a grunt of annoyance but went into the room that held clothing. Choices were slim between the minor assortment, he quickly picked a thick shirt to throw under his coat, a newer pair of pants, and adding a single glove over his free hand. Theresa had appeared in the room with him, though it didn't surprise him as he was aware of her light tread. Not acknowledging her in the slightest, Sparrow continued dressing himself, until he felt one of her hands on his shoulder.

"Please Sparrow, I can feel your heart weighing heavy. You can not lose yourself within the pains of the past." her voice was sympathetic and sincere.

"I'm fine." he said flatly, shrugging her arm away. Though he attempted to keep his voice steady and calm, he couldn't hide the smallest hint of anger that Theresa immediately picked up on. She knew full well what had transpired in the tomb, what her brother had done to the hero. It was something she herself did for him long ago, back when the world was simpler. She turned and walked away, leaving Sparrow alone to finish.

The solitude got to him. Being left alone with his thoughts made a strange feeling creep into him. Whatever his ancestor did had more of an effect on him then he would have ever realized. The experience given to him made him realize how much of a fool he was. All of his accomplishments, all of his feats as a hero, while they were compared to that of his ancestors, they were disgraceful.

His own pride in his abilities was shattered as he saw how flawed he was. He recalled his battles, each seemed impressive at the time, but now he can see all the blatant mistakes he made. Tiny details in how he fought, in how he acted were wrong in every way he looked at them.

Allowing his own emotions to take control, something that has gotten far more seasoned heroes killed. Now trying to keep himself plain and hardened. Not wanting to allow any emotion to seep in, or out. Though he has seen that his anger weighs heavier then he liked to think, still tugging at his mind and wanting to rip each member of the Court apart, piece by piece.

The new found power that was given to him made him realize how weak he truly was, just a boy playing with a wooden sword.

Letting out a long and well needed sigh, Sparrow returned to the center chamber. The others gave him a simple glance, not speaking a word. It gave a slight surprise to the hero, even Reaver had been keeping quite, studying the hero in a vain attempt to understand what happened. Sparrow looked at the map, very few parts were actually marked. There was one on the eastern side, a small point labeled Mistpeak. Concentrating hard, Sparrow felt the hands of his companions grip onto him as they were engulfed in blue light.

* * *

A cold and heavy chill struck down hard on the heroes as they appeared in a new, snowy environment. Large mountains sloped up high, reaching into the sky and disappeared. There was a constant wind that blew from every direction. Despite the low temperature, the scenery was beautiful.

After becoming more accustomed to the changes, the heroes started off to find Brightwall. Old stone lined together to form a path, different turns that led up and down slopes and through the bare trees. As they followed the paths, they came across a large clearing filled with caravans.

Odd familiarities came to Sparrow, reminding him of his youth after his childhood happiness was ripped from him. The people of the camp were fittingly dressed in heavy fur coats, each giving glares to the heroes and silent whispers between themselves.

The heroes didn't make it far however. Almost out of nowhere, a group of villagers surrounded them and had swords to their throats.

"Hold off your attack." Sparrow whispered to the others, noticing them instinctively preparing for a fight. They hesitated slightly but accepted it. The villagers forced them to move deeper into the camp, passing by even more stares and whispers.

They came up to a large tent, the front wall was missing to show the inside. A large wooden chair was underneath, being shadowed by the top. Sitting on the chair was a thin looking man. His clothing was a great contrast to those of the other villagers, only wearing a thin vest and pair of pants with metal bands across his arms.

"Ah, who do we have here?" he asked. "More intruders trying to kill us off?"

"No sir," Sparrow spoke up, "we are just new to the area and wondering where we are." The man began stroking his beard as he looked at Sparrow, possibly judging him as a threat or not.

"Well stranger, your in the Dweller Camp. We are but simple people using the mountains to make an existence for ourselves, moving our homes from place to place when needed. My name is Sabine, chief of the Dwellers." Garth had also been eying the area with interest, finally speaking up.

"Nomads?" he asked. "I thought only the Gypsies of Bower Lake still clung to nomadic traditions." Sabine just chuckled at the Will user.

"Oh no no no magic man, we have been this way for many years. Though we do tend to keep to ourselves, we aren't the most sociable people." He made a simple gesture with his hand and the 'guards' lowered their swords and backed away from the heroes. Sabine stood from his small throne, his shoulders were bent forward slightly, giving a small bend of his back, early signs of an aging body. He strode over to the heroes, carrying a long staff that had an odd glass fixture on top with him. The staff seemed to be for looks, but through Sparrow's eyes he could see the Chief hiding his need for it. Subtle movements in his grip and stride giving it away.

Sabine came close to Sparrow, staring hard at the hero and inspecting his clothing. Doing the same for the others, he quickly returned to Sparrow with a smile.

"You look a bit familiar... Your a hero, aren't you?" Sparrow merely nodded, gaining a satisfied smile from the chief. "Ah, I had heard of the stories coming from the farther sides of Albion. A great hero whose compassion for others was a thing of legend. A hero who saved us all from the threats of some Old Kingdom artifact... Reaver... I believe his name was."

The statement caught the hero off guard, while he could hear Reaver laughing behind him. It also earned a confused look from the man, as Sparrow shook his head.

"It's Sparrow," the hero said flatly, he then turned his head to the pirate and made a gesture to him. "The short one back there is Reaver." Sabine acknowledged the information with a nod.

"Well 'Sparrow'. First things first." he held out his hand to the hero, who accepted it after a moment of consideration. "I apologize for our... 'rude' greeting to you and your companions. We have become a bit jumpy towards newcomers as of late." He let out a heavy sigh and changed his tone to more remorseful. "Not very long ago, we were visited by two men. Odd sort, dressed in these weird garments. They demanded we serve their so called gods. We refused of course, never were ones to follow anything. They didn't like that."

They started walking as Sabine told his story, while the heroes were too focused on what he said, they didn't notice where they were going. Their attention to the scenery peaked when they stopped. It was a small clearing near the back of the camp. Simple, makeshift graves sat there. The disturbed earth still showed, tipping off to the time that had passed.

"Those monsters killed half of our hunting team. Even my bodyguard, Stone, was killed." He sighed again, bringing his hand to his eyes and wiping away forming moisture. "I wish I could have done more for my people, but this aging body of mine prevents much." Reaver gave a light chuckle.

"I never would have guessed, you look strong enough to take on five of those zealots." Reaver said, chuckling again. Sabine gave a piercing scowl and with a motion as quick as lightning, he struck the pirate across the head with his staff. Reaver clutched the sore spot with one hand, with the other he reached down for his pistol. An iron grip grabbed onto his wrist, he looked and saw Sparrow glaring at him, his eyes were colder then the mountains around them.

The look gave an odd feeling that the hardened pirate hadn't experienced in a long time, it wasn't fear or intimidation, it was curiosity and interest. Sparrow's eyes seemed to almost flash between a cold emotionless man, to something else... Reaver knew he would have to look further into it with the hero, preferably in private. He released his grip from his pistol, and Sparrow released his.

"I'm sorry." Sparrow said, turning to Sabine, trying to force pity into his voice. "But those people are actually a reason why we are here." Sparrow then told Sabine about what had been happening to Albion, who the Court was, their return, and their current journey to Brightwall. Sabine listened to it carefully, stroking his beard as he realized how out of touch with Albion his people truly were.

"Hmm, that's some story." Sabine said after Sparrow was finished. "So you say there's something in Brightwall that will help ya?" He nodded in response. "Well then, I insist you stay here for the night. The road to Brightwall will take the better part of a day, and from the looks of it you could use a meal and rest." Sparrow wanted to deny the offer, he wanted to keep going and continue the fight. But he looked to his companions and knew their limits were shorter then his own.

"Alright," he accepted, hearing an exhale from Reaver, who was apparently holding his breath.

"Good." Sabine said, clapping his hands together and smiling. "I will have some blankets and food provided for you."

Sparrow looked on to his friends as they became comfortable in their new surroundings. Hammer was already asleep, empty bottles and bone scraps from a meal surrounded her. Garth was sitting with Sabine, learning what he could about the Dweller's history and the region. The hero couldn't spot Reaver, though he was most likely showing off or flirting with someone.

Sparrow tossed the last bit of meat he had to his begging dog, watching him devour it and fall asleep at his side. Staring into the fire before him, Sparrow contemplated his path and what he was doing. Too lost in thought, the hero didn't notice the pirate approach him.

"How you feeling hero?" he asked, only gaining quick glance and glare from Sparrow. "Moody much?"

"What do you want Reaver?" Sparrow murmured, while the pirate sat next to him.

"Well, normally I'd not care about the different ups and downs of someones particular personal levels. But given current situations and considering it's you, my curiosity has been struck. So I ask you, whats wrong?" A 'hmph' from Sparrow was his first response, followed by a sigh.

"Well what do you think?" he asked.

"That you are spiraling into an emotional wreck." He replied. "You can't survive waring against your own emotions." Sparrow gave an amused grunt, partly from the sign of worry in the pirate's voice.

"Who are you to talk of such things Reaver? The immortal pirate who hides away from the massacre that he caused on his own home." The comment caused Reaver's eyes to darken slightly, the hero had again gotten to him.

"Joke all you want Sparrow," he said, a hint of anger being evident. "but I'm not the one hiding from what I do. You may not like me, but unlike many of the other fools of this pathetic world, what you see is who I am. Not covering myself with falsehoods and facades." The outburst caused another grunt from Sparrow.

"If you say so." he simply replied. A heavy silence occurred between the two heroes, Sparrow was just waiting for the pirate to lose interest and leave. But he just sat there staring into the fire.

"Am I really that short?" Reaver spoke up, the question caught the hero by surprise.

"What?" he asked, trying to make sure he heard it right.

"Am I really that short?" the pirate repeated. Sparrow took a glance at the gunner, he was kind of vertically challenged.

"Yeah." Sparrow finally nodded. "Especially for someone who is a master of Skill, you are pretty short." Drowsiness started to come to the hero, he hoped Reaver would see it too and leave. Reaver stood there even longer, apparently concerned with his height. "Maybe you can wear a hat." he suggested, trying to get rid of him.

"hmm, maybe." he said, scratching his chin.

"Go away Reaver." Sparrow said, intentionally adding agitation to show his seriousness.

Reaver finally caught on and left Sparrow alone with his thoughts.

Sparrow leaned against the caravan he was sitting outside of. Turning to look at the emptiness, he felt a sense of macabre. The caravan belonged to one of the poor Dwellers who had died in the attack, now it was stripped of most possessions and given to the living who needed them. Sparrow had a similar experience as a child. While growing up in the Gypsy Camp he remembered when a man was killed in a bandit attack, they gave his caravan the same treatment. Giving the dead even more use after their life ends, it was something Sparrow learned long ago.

The hero set his old memories aside, now wasn't the time for such thoughts. Morning would be soon and he would need his strength. Sparrow tilted his hat forward, shadowing his face, and fell asleep.

* * *

It was already sun down by the time they made it down the mountains.

Sabine had sent them off with a few provisions to survive the area, warmer clothing and food. He wished them luck, knowing what their victory would mean for the Dwellers as well.

The mountains continued for some time, eventually leading to a large field with tall green grass and even greener trees.

They followed the paths that Sabine had instructed them to, finding a large cliff side that stretched over to a large decrepit stone bridge. Across from the bridge stood a crumbling stone wall, two large wooden doors stood at the center, forming a gate.

The gate was opened so they walked through. The town itself was simple, having few shops and a single Inn, several houses stood up on a high slope. Being nightfall, the town looked deserted, only a few guards stood in select positions, giving odd looks to the heroes as they passed.

"Doesn't seem like this place gets many visitors." Hammer commented.

"Seems likely," Garth said, "this town looks as though there isn't much to bring people."

The soon went outside the village, were the houses stopped and trees dotted the area. An odd stone formation came into view, as they got closer, the shape become more clear. The front side was just curved and sloped rock, making it look simple and ordinary. The back though was flat, almost like a wall that came down onto a downward path inside of the rock itself.

At the very bottom of the path was another stone door, much smaller then their first. The Guilds Seal carved in the center.

**A/N: Well there we go. Bit of referencing, and tid bits of things and that such. And yes I know the joke with Sabine's bodyguard is terrible. Just seemed likely he would have one that died, and I had to think of SOME kind of name... yeah...**

**Anyway, it should seem obvious whats going on at this point. Not a whole lot going on in this chapter though just a bit of explaining and such. Next one will be good, a nice plot chapter.**

**So as usual, hope your enjoying it, leave a review if you want blah blah blah etc. etc.**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Yay new chapter. Hope you guys enjoy it. Making sure to mention that updates may take longer then usual. **

**Dunno if it is a problem with the site or myself, though seems to give error messages most of the time when I try to go to the edit portion of my Fable fics (though it's fine on my other two fics... weird) Did the same when I tried updating the last chapter, though I suppose I got lucky and it allowed me to do it once.**

**So FYI, updates may take a bit longer until this mess is sorted out, doesn't mean I'm not working on it. Enjoy... **

**Chapter: 17**

"This seems too played out." Reaver commented, staring at the stone door in front of them.

"What do you mean?" Hammer asked, not understanding.

"No one else gets the feeling of walking a path that's already been set for us? Looks like that happens an awful lot."

"Your right." Garth said. "It was a predetermined fate that told the story of the three heroes, bound by the fourth. The same story Lucien heard of and played his own part in."

"And of course," Sparrow added, "with people like Theresa, the notion of coincidence has disappeared almost entirely." The comment caused the heroes to pause for a moment, pondering their own fates and paths.

"Well sitting here and thinking about the future wont stop the Court." Hammer finally said. "We have a door blocking our way to continue, I say lets open it."

The door was similar to the one that held the tomb they were in last. Only slightly smaller and less designs carved into it.

"Might I suggest an ounce of blood to start with, then we can see where that leads us." Reaver suggested, turning a gaze to Sparrow.

"Reaver!" yelled Hammer. "You could at least _pretend_ you have some kind of humanity."

"It's just a suggestion." he said innocently. "And it's not like I'm wrong in assuming that's the key."

"It's not." Sparrow said.

"What?" The pirate asked. "Why wouldn't it?"

"Because," he continued, "this door wasn't meant for just those with the Archon's blood to open it." Another familiar feeling was with this door as well. Like he had been there during it's creation, knowing how it works.

Sparrow removed the Seal at his belt and pushed it against the center of the door. The door clung to the Seal, rotating it around in a full circle. Sounds of cracking stone and metal came out as the locks opened themselves. The Seal slipped off the door and it split open, revealing the inside.

Replacing the Seal back to his belt, Sparrow and the others went inside.

The tomb looked as though it was built by the same hands as the one in Brightwood. Absent of flaws and age in the looks, it was well preserved. Torches lined the walls, eternal flames still burning.

The most notable features were the rows of book cases that were filled with books of different sizes. Just the first room seemed to hold hundreds upon hundreds.

Almost immediately Garth ran to one of the shelves, running his fingers across the spines.

"Garthy-boy likes books." Reaver said, smirking to himself.

"Th-this is unbelievable," said Garth, not noticing Reaver's comment, "these books are hundreds of years old. I've never seen anything like it."

The other heroes joined Garth, looking over the different books. The book's dates spanned for centuries, yet they looked new. Garth's excitement seemed likely, but was still amusing.

"Some of these date back to the Old Kingdom," Sparrow commented, observing the different titles, "others are as early as the time of the the Hero of Oakvale."

"So... they are books... they are old... and there are a lot of them..." Reaver pondered to himself, "And this will help us against otherworldly demons, how?" Without waiting for an answer, Reaver picked up one of the books, examined it, and tossed it across the room, smashing it against a decorative suit of armor. The armor dented and collapsed onto the floor. "Effective..." he chuckled.

"Don't be so thick Reaver," Hammer scolded, "there has to be something useful about this place."

"And what, my dear brute, is that?" the pirate retorted. The monk placed a hand on her chin, pondering the idea.

"Well..." she thought, "this place _was _only visited by heroes and Archons over the years...so..."

"It's more then likely that something besides old tomes was left here, a useful weapon perhaps." Sparrow interrupted.

Sparrow started out of the room to explore the rest of the tomb. The others having to pull Garth away from tomes. The next chamber was massive, a set of stairs came across the walls on both sides, leading ot a lower platform. The ceiling stretched high into the air, almost unable to be seen at the top. A large pit in the center gave the eerie feeling of an imminent fall.

"This place is beautifully made," Hammer commented, admiring the area, "I can't believe it could look this way and still be so old."

"I read books that talked about this place." Garth mentioned, small bits of his excitement still showing. "It was created as a safe haven for knowledge, being added to by the different Archons and Will users of Albion over the years."

They followed the stairs down to another room, more rows of book cases lined against the walls and in the center. That room led to others, more rows of books laid across the rooms. Multiple pathways crossed in different parts of the tomb, leading to even more rooms, adding to it's massive size.

Despite the different paths, the heroes only hesitated for a moment between each choice. Sparrow seemed to almost know where he was going. Not knowing what they're looking for, or where it could be, Sparrow followed his blood, sensing the pace his ancestors set.

They came into the largest room yet, the ceiling seemed non existent, extra floors rose high up that held the largest collection of books yet. At the very bottom was different platforms that held small pedestals with more priceless books.

There was no where else to go, the room was a dead end.

"We must have gone the wrong way." Garth said, his excitement had passed and was more focused on his goal.

"No." Sparrow stated, his voice seemed distant.

The hero walked across the room, leaving his companions confused. Sparrow approached one of the book pedestal, but it didn't hold any ordinary book.

A black leather bound book floated in place, a black aura visibly surrounded it, just standing near it felt like it was trying to drain you. The biggest detail in it was the cover, it held no title, only an illustration of a white mask.

Sparrow reached for the book. As his fingers almost touched the object, he immediately retracted his hand, feeling an almost burning sensation as he got near it. He tore apart the coat Sabine had given him, wrapped the cloth around his arms and grabbed for the book again.

"This thing," Sparrow said, staring down at the book he held, "it feels so dark, so tainted." The hero opened it and looked at what was written inside. He didn't understand what he saw, not even a language was written in it. It was runes, colored in a blood red. Sparrow remembered something like it when he saw Lucien's diary, being written in strange symbols to keep wandering eyes away. But this book was something else.

"See if you can make it out." Sparrow said, wrapping the book up and tossing it to Garth. The Will user looked inside, his eye widened when he saw the strange writing. A time passed as Garth stared at the book.

"I can only make out small parts." he said, not taking his gaze from the pages. "It seems to have been written by William Black himself. It must be about his encounters with the Court, it may hold something we can use to help us."

"So we just give it to Theresa then?" Hammer asked, figuring out a plan. "She did after all read Lucien's book for us, doubt it will be any different for her."

"Yeah..." Sparrow nodded. Garth re wrapped the book and tucked it away in his blue robe.

"Before we go," Reaver began, "how about we head back to the village? After all of this walking, I could use something to quench my thirst."

"For once," Hammer said, "I'll agree with Reaver. Haven't had a good bottle in my hands for a while, I'm sure that Brightwall will have what I need."

Garth didn't seem to care either way, not voicing his own opinion on the matter. He didn't have to. A slight rumble sounded from his position, the Will user lowered his head in embarrassment, his stomach was growling. Having been too caught up with Sabine's history lesson, he had neglected to eat. Giving the others a quick glance, Garth hoped that none of them noticed it. The noise was too slight for the other heroes to hear, he was glad for that. But the sharpened ears of Sparrow had.

Sparrow almost immediately made up his mind to deny his companions the respite they wanted, not for cruel reasons, just wanting to continue the small war that had started between Albion's last heroes and the Court.

But something inside the hero ticked itself on. Not really knowing what it was, a small flicker of his past self, remembering the easier years being a hero.

He let out a sigh and muttered, "Alright." A small sense of joy emanated from Hammer and Reaver.

They back tracked their way through the tomb. Crossing paths with the many books, each more priceless then the last, but they were making off with the most valuable one. It didn't take long for them to make it back to the entrance, the idea of sunlight was welcoming after spending all that time underground.

As they approached the entrance however, something happened. A thick black smoke covered the doorway leading out. Sparrow tried passing his hand through it, but the smoke felt as solid as a metal barrier. They then heard a deep laughter coming behind them. They turned to see a tear appear in the air and the Knight stepping from the portal.

"Well well well," he said mockingly, "someone has certainly been busy." He eyed Sparrow up and down. "I see your arm has healed, fascinating."

"Maybe I can return the favor." Sparrow replied flatly. He brought up Avo's Tear and held it dead center at the Knight, who gave an impressed whistle.

"Nice sword, shape looks familiar, color seems odd though. Too bad, no changes in weaponry will protect you for long." Sparrow stepped closer to the Knight.

"We will see about that." The Knight raised his hands and two smaller tears appeared. From them stepped a group of Minions and more Zealots. But these Zealots were different then the ones they encountered in Bloodstone, they seemed larger and stronger, their muscles were bulged beyond a normal human.

"Hold them off." Sparrow said, turning a gaze to his companions. "I'll take care of the Knight."

"No Sparrow!" Hammer protested. "You barley survived last time, you need our help." Sparrow's gaze locked onto her, his eyes almost froze her blood, a dead serious look.

"No." he said, his voice almost as cold as the feeling it gave Hammer.

Without waiting for another exchange of words, Sparrow walked further to the Knight. The Knight's massive blade was already in hand and held up. Sparrow passed the newly summoned enemies, none stopped him while he continued to their leader.

They both stood before each other, copying their own movements, circling each other. Their stances switched and their swords held new positions, the tensity could be felt through the air.

The heroes, zealots and minions stood there, watching as the two warriors prepared for a first strike.

The Knight took the chance and lunged at Sparrow, swinging his blade down on the hero. Sparrow stepped to the side and easily dodged the attack. The Knight was quick to try again, adjusting his grip and swinging his blade horizontally at his new position.

Again Sparrow dodged it, though this time the hero was able to step behind the Knight, slashing his sword across his back. A loud grunt of pain came from the d emon, his cloak was sliced in two and the deep cut was already oozing black blood through his armor.

The Knight gave a slight chuckle, "Not bad, you are certainly more nimble then you were before." He twisted back and tried swinging at the hero again. The blade came down but Sparrow jumped up to avoid it. Landing on the Knight's sword, he jumped again, flipping over his attack and bringing his sword through his back again.

"Argh!" the Knight yelled, now having an bleeding X across his back. He made furious swing down on the hero, Sparrow rose his blade up to block it. The loud noise of metal against metal shook the tomb.

Sparrow held his blade against the Knight's. The Knight used all his strength to try and push it through the hero, but Sparrow held it back defiantly, not a sign of strain on his face. Sparrow broke the hold and forced the Knight's blade into the ground. Sparrow then brought a fist against the Knight's chest, cracking the armor and forcing the warrior down. A quick turn and Sparrow was back behind the Knight, forming a fiery Will spell, he unleashed it on the Knight's back and into his wound.

Sparrow stepped back, somewhat admiring his work. The Knight growled in anger.

"You think your clever, huh." The Knight said. "Fine, I'll just need to use all of my power on you, too bad there won't be anything left for Jack." The light in the tomb faded slightly. The zealots and Minions started to breath heavy in anticipation. It was the only sound that came in.

The Knight began to smoke, a black aura flowed around his armor. Sparrow notice the lack of something aswell. While he fought, the dripping of the Knight's bloody back formed a constant, never changing sound that almost soothed him. It had stopped.

Without warning, Sparrow felt a heavy blow against his chest. Somehow the Knight had sped toward the hero, sending a metal covered fist against his chest. Payback for his cracked breastplate. Even with his new found strength, the Knight was a member of raw power, the punch had hurt.

Sparrow flipped through the air, at least three times, he lost count after that. Landing hard on the stone ground, the hero was quick to get back to his feet. The Knight held his blade up and slammed it down into the ground, a large shock wave rippled from the impact. The blast expanded through the chamber, cracking the stone, turning over book shelves and speeding up as it came closer to him.

The shock wave reached him, he braced himself. Feeling the pound of an invisible force, throwing him off of his feet again. He was thrown out of the beginning chamber, landing on the one of the two sections of stairs. The landing didn't hurt though, being lucky enough not to snap his spine on a stone step. For a split second he pondered whose luck it was, his own, or the Knight's.

Sparrow stood up as quickly as before, just in time to block a new swing by his opponent. They continued fighting. Each delivering their own blows to the other, each blocking the others attacks. The impacts of the blades sounded off into the tomb, echoing off of the vast walls. As their blades met, tremors of force shot through the air, cutting into the rock, damaging the pristine halls.

The hero and demon fought. The others watched them disappear behind the stone walls. Still in shock and awe, they didn't move forgetting that their enemies stood beside them. Reaver was the first to notice, taking the opportunity to raise his pistol and send a bullet into the closest zealot's head.

As the dead body thudded to the ground, it brought the others back to themselves. Their own fight started. The heroes were used to fighting the Minions, they were able to hold them off. But the zealot's were different, they weren't normal humans anymore, their strength and speed was unnatural. Though it wouldn't be a surprise to think that their masters helped them somehow.

Sparrow and the Knight continued to fight. Their attacks bringing the fight into other rooms, other halls, leaving behind battle scars that would never heal.

They made it to the last room the heroes went to, the overly massive room. Fighting on the higher floors. Sparrow swung down hard on the Knight, who easily blocked the attack. The force of the attack however cracked the floor underneath them.

"Come on hero." The Knight jeered. "You wont save your friend fighting so poorly." A roar of anger came from the hero as he tackled into the Knight. When their weight hit the ground, the cracks broke and they tumbled through the floor. They fell all the way to the bottom floor, landing heavily against the stone.

Sparrow rolled over with a groan, letting the pain of the fall ebb away. He then noticed a large chunk of rock stabbed into the side of his chest, sensing that he must have fallen on it. A hard tug removed the piece. He noticed the Knight with him, just recovering as well.

Not taking the time to wait, Sparrow threw the shard, knocking against the Knight's mask. The disoriented Knight staggered, not seeing the hero charge full force. As Sparrow ran into him, the Knight recovered and grabbed onto Sparrow's neck.

"I've got you now." The Knight chuckled, clenching tighter on his throat. "And no, you won't escape this time." he said, ripping the seal from Sparrow's belt and tossing it away.

He then held his sword high and swung it down on Sparrow. The hero acted on the split second he was given, raising his left arm and catching the blade as it came down. Feeling the sharp sting as the blade cut into his palm, but it stopped.

The Knight gave another growl, tightening his grip even more on his neck and putting more strength into his sword.

Sparrow knew that soon either his neck would be broken or his body would be sliced open. He then remembered what he held in his other hand, the whispering blade, Avo's Tear. The hero swung his arm upward, aiming for the only spot he could think of. Stabbing the blade deep into the Knight's arm, were the bone met shoulder.

A loud tearing of flesh and crunching of bone followed, then a scream of pain. The iron grip on Sparrow's neck loosened completely and he watched as the limb fell to the ground, severed from the Knights torso.

"My arm!" the Knight shouted, dropping his sword and clutching at the wound, blood seeping through his fingers and down his hand. "You filthy cur!"

Sparrow didn't respond, he ducked down and sliced at the knees of the Knight. He started to fall down when the hero charged closer, placing his hands against his breastplate and sending a powerful push spell against him.

The Knight was thrown through the air, crashing hard against a stone wall. Sparrow threw his sword like a spear and watched it pierce into his chest. The Knight quickly grabbed the small blade and tossed it away, still trying to recover from his amputation.

Noticing the massive sword of the Knight still laying on the ground, Sparrow picked it up, feeling the heavy metal in his hands. He charged forward, thrusting the heavy weapon with all of his strength.

It pierced through the armor with ease, going through the Knight's chest and pinning his body against the stone. The Knight hung there, unable to support his own weight with his sliced knees, trying to pry away the blade with his only arm, failing each time.

"Heh... not bad... for a mortal." he managed to force out, his deep voice growing more and more faint.

Sparrow didn't care though, he only wanted one thing from the Knight. He stepped toward him, grabbing a hold of his neck and bringing his face to his mask.

"Now tell me, where are they!." he shouted through gritted teeth. The Knight looked lazily up at him. Then to the hero's surprise, he started laughing. His laughter was weak but loud. Mad cackling of a dieing warrior, something Sparrow would remember for the rest of his life.

The laughter stopped, the Knights head dropped down, staring vacantly at the floor. Sparrow let go of the lifeless neck and turned to walk away.

Then he heard a strange noise, like porcelain dragging across metal. He turned to the Knight's body to see his mask twitching slightly.

The mask slipped away from the helm and fell forward, revealing the face of the Knight, and strands of white hair.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter: 18**

Sparrow's face paled to a ghostly white.

His body trembled while the world became non existent to him.

Sparrow could only see the body of the Knight, seeing the face of the creature he just slaughtered. But what he saw made his heart stop, seeing the face of his friend, James.

He tore off the helm to make sure, letting the rest of his white hair fall down.

"No, no no. This can't..be." Sparrow said, hardly able to find his voice, his words coming out as a hoarse whisper. "It's a... a trick, it has to be."

Sparrow grabbed the Knight's massive blade, still penetrating it's corpse, pulling it free and catching his body as he fell from his place on the wall.

"James," he shouted shaking his friend. "_James_!"

A subtle twitch in the face of his friend showed some life. James' eyes lazily looked up and connected to Sparrow's.

"Sparrow?" he asked weakly. As the hero nodded, James showed a small smirk. "Then it's...over."

"Oh James, I'm so sorry, this is all my fault." Sparrow said, his voice filling with grief. James lifted his good arm and held onto Sparrow's neck, looking him deeper in the eyes.

"Don't... Sparrow... please." he coughed up a glob of blood, Sparrow noticed the color returned to a normal red tint. "It's not like... my life had much meaning...anyway. S-sure it was short, but... knowing you... made it all worth it... in the end..."

Sparrow felt tears roll down his eyes, not caring in the slightest. James' eyes closed and his grip on Sparrow loosened.

"James." Sparrow said, lightly shaking him. Still feeling a small pulse within the armored body. He opened his eyes, the pupils shrunk to beads, a thick glaze covering the surface.

"Sparrow." he said, his weakened voice forming a serious tone. "I don't... have long. You have to... know. That mask, it takes over the wearer's body... it's what Jack did after he captured... me." He paused, trying to keep his breathing steady. "He did the same to Alex..."

The statement hit hard on the hero. His own mind was too distraught to piece together the obvious, his wife shared the same fate as James.

"You can't... let your love for her... stop you against that bitch Queen. She's gone now, as am I. Even... now, I can still... feel that bastard's influence. Please Sparrow... save Alex, like you have saved... me." His voice was drifting off, his eyelids fluttered as he fought against his own Will to keep them open.

"Goodbye James." Sparrow said, his voice cracking as he chocked on his words. The corner of James' mouth twitched upward, forming a small smirk.

"Thank you Sparrow... I am honored to have known you... as a friend..." James' voice faded and trailed away. Sparrow could sense his pulse had stopped. Lowering his head, he wiped away the tears clinging to his lashes.

Laying his friends body on the ground, he saw his friend's lifeless eyes still looking at him. They showed a shade of freedom and joy, a small tinge of yellow still showed the Knight's influence.

"Rest easy my friend," he muttered. Placing his fingertips on the lids, he closed James' eyes for the last time. He ripped a portion of his shirt, using the piece as a rag to wipe away the dirt and blood covering his friend's face.

Sparrow retrieved his seal and sword, noticing with disgust the drying blood on it. Knowing whose blood it was, he was quick to clean it.

The hero didn't know how to feel. Maybe his own emotion was so wrecked, he was left as a cold husk. He thought of his own anger, his own grief. Jack was the common factor in it all, he was responsible for it.

As he retrieved his affects, he noticed the Knight's mask laying beside his friend. The white object had an odd black marking on the forehead. As he stared down at the mask, a hollow feeling of need came into him. Like the mask was trying to pull him toward it. The sensation was weak however and he easily conquered the notion.

Sparrow spat on the mask and crushed it under his heal. For an unknown reason, a sense of satisfaction came afterward. Then, a fierce hissing sound came from near him. He adverted his gaze to see James' body smoking.

Before the hero could act, he noticed it wasn't from the body, it was from the armor. The black armor appeared to be evaporating, turning to a thick, inky black smoke and dissipating into the air. The armor, helm and even the monster of a sword were gone, leaving only James' body.

His friend was wearing his normal cloths, only they were slightly torn and dirty. Showing no real sign of what the body previously appeared as.

Then Sparrow heard the footsteps of his companions, he had forgotten all about them, but their appearance showed their own victory.

"How long?" he asked, wondering what they saw.

"Long enough," Hammer replied, her voice came as a soft whisper while she tried restraining her own sadness, seeing James laying on the floor. "I'm sorry Sparrow."

"Yeah..." he responded.

"Clever devil, isn't he." Reaver commented, staring down at James' body. "I suppose Jack was right, he _did_ die by your hands." Sparrow's anger flared. He balled his hand and sent a fist into the pirates face, the blow audibly thudded. Reaver gave a slight girlish grunt and clutched his face, falling over from the surprise.

"Damn." Hammer quietly said, trying to suppress an amused chuckle. The pirate opened his hands to see a trickle of blood dripping from his nostrils. A slight bend in the feature showed it was broken.

Then to everyone's surprise the wound seemed to fix itself. The blood made a reverse fall, actually trailing back up into his nose, and the bone itself straightened. There was no proof of any kind of mark or wound.

"Hmph," Reaver grunted annoyingly, "consider yourself lucky that wasn't permanent. Or we would have some trouble." Sparrow immediately grabbed the pirates shirt, pushing him against the nearest wall, lifting him off his feet to bring him face to face.

"Despite how difficult it is for you Reaver," the hero growled through clenched teeth, "you are going to _keep your mouth shut!_ One more word and I'll make you wish your wounds couldn't heal."

Reaver just stared at Sparrow, wide eyed. After he was let go, the pirate quickly regained his normal composure, trying to make himself look more in control and walk away on his own free will. He pulled out a small wooden comb from his pocket, walking away as he muttered something along the lines of Sparrow damaging his hair.

Ignoring the pirate, Sparrow knelt back down to his friend. Despite the clear wounds he had, James looked peaceful. It was all the hero could hope for.

They had what they came for, they had no more reason to be in the tomb.

Sparrow stood back up and retrieved the missing limb of his friend, absent of the black armor it previously had. A sickening feel donned on the hero as he held the arm, knowing what had happened to him didn't sit well. Approaching the James once more, Sparrow removed the rest of his extra clothing and tied the arm around his chest, against the cut that was made.

The hero picked James' body up and motioned to the others. They all approached as Sparrow brought a hand to his belt and disappeared in a blue light.

* * *

They all entered the chamber, meeting with Theresa, who waited for them as usual. She immediately saw the newcomer being carried in Sparrow's arms, bowing her head slightly as she knew who it was. Sparrow placed James' lightly on the floor, turning his gaze to the Seeress before him.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, trying to keep his tone leveled but still unable to hide all the emotion he held. She only gave a questioning look in response, causing Sparrow's anger to flare. "You had to of known Jack would do this!" he shouted, gesturing to his dead friend's body.

Theresa took a moment to look away from the hero, sighing to herself, the first time Sparrow had ever heard her do it.

"I wasn't sure if he would have Sparrow, you must know that. Jack is never truly obvious with his plans." She saw the response wasn't doing anything for the hero. "Tell me. Would it have mattered if I told you?" Sparrow just looked away after the question. "You would have had to of killed the Knight regardless of any emotional tie you have with his vessel. Knowing before would have only caused hesitation and risk." Sparrow continued his stare to the floor, knowing full well that the gypsy was right. A heavy silence followed, the other heroes couldn't think of anything to say. "I trust that something was found in Brightwall?" Theresa finally asked.

Garth nodded slightly, pulling out the old tome. The Seeress accepted and unwrapped it. Not hesitating to touch the books surface. Already flipping through the pages, she ran her fingers across the strange symbols.

"This is written in a strange code." she commented, not taking her attention away from the tome. "This may take some time to decipher." She looked up, her blank eyes looking into Sparrow's. "You may want to take this time to rest, and... grieve." The last word sounded as though she had spoken it carefully.

Sparrow only gave an almost unnoticeable nod, picking up his friend's corpse and walking grabbing his belt. The others didn't move, knowing their friend would want privacy, only his canine jumped along, catching his master's feet just in time to be telaported away.

Hammer, Garth, and Reaver could only sit and wait. Sparrow was gone, and Theresa was in the main chamber pouring what she had into figuring out the mysterious tome. They lounged in one of the Sanctuary's branching chambers. It was filled with well crafted furnishings, something you would expect in a noble's manor. Unsurprisingly, it was all designed by Reaver.

They heard a call from the main chamber, when they answered it, they could see Theresa waiting for them.

Before they could question about the tome, she gestured toward the Cullis Gate at the side of the room. A blue flash occurred and Sparrow stepped out, his dog walking behind. The heroes were surprised to see him, only being gone for a few hours, expecting him to be gone for much longer.

"Where's James?" Hammer asked, knowing what the lack of his body meant.

"He's dead." Sparrow said, in a flat tone. Like the answer was common sense, equally known like the color of the sky or grass. The look the monk gave him in response forced him to go further. "He will be buried in Bowerstone, I know the keeper there, he will be taken care of."

"But Sparrow," Hammer argued, "you should take some time to grieve, to rest." Sparrow only turned away from her.

"There is a time and a place for such things Hammer, now is not the time." He kept his patience with her, knowing she understood what was going on. She had watched her father die in front of her, feeling the overwhelming pain. Blaming herself for failing to protect him.

"I trust you know what's best." Theresa chimed in. She could see the new determination in the hero, his new need to destroy Jack. It was something she saw many years ago, from someone just like the young hero.

"Figure anything out?" Sparrow asked, turning to Theresa. She simply nodded, holding up the open book.

"This tome was written by William Black, the first Archon, destroyer of the Court. It tells of the years that were spent during their rule. What Albion was like and how his own life was under their power. Even how to confront them in their own world, the Void." The words hit hard on Sparrow. Attacking them head on? The idea seemed too good to be true.

"How?" he immediately asked.

"A powerful ritual that will create a portal between worlds." she replied, knowing what he would ask. "If you think you are ready, we can start it immediately." Sparrow nodded in response. "Alright then, we can preform it in Bower Lake." The heroes all left out of the Cullis Gate.

* * *

Bower Lake seemed to stand still. Almost as if it was vacant of any life, everything running from the event that would take place.

Theresa and the heroes stood on the grassy fields, the black tome was floating before the Seeress as she moved through the pages. Lifting her hand, a small dagger materialized. Before the others could figure it out, she made a cut across her arm.

Not flinching for an instant, the blood flowed quickly. She rubbed her fingers in the substance and very rapidly, started writing in the air. Somehow the blood left her hands and formed odd symbols. They floated there, as if the air had become an invisible blackboard.

The runes began to fill the space that Theresa stood in. Forming a large circle of blood red markings that floated around the black tome. Theresa soon finished, stepping away from her work, her wound was already healed. Too astonished to say anything, the others only watched.

Theresa held out her arms, the runes that had been swirling in a circular path around the book froze in place. The black aura that flowed from the book started to grow, the heroes could almost swear they felt an expanding heat. As the blackness became larger, it reached out and consumed the red symbols.

The aura shrank back, the blood red runes were gone, in their place were blackened markings. Their appearance looked as though they were empty, rather then symbols painted in the air, they were holes carved out of it.

Like magic, the floating book started to move. It floated out and away from the swarm of blackened swarm, coming into Theresa's outstretched hands.

"Even after the portal is opened," she explained, "it will still be unstable and take more time to fully open to the Void." Still too shocked, the heroes only gave slight nods.

Theresa held out her arms again, the book floated a small distance away. The circle of runes began to rotate once more. They circled and circled, their speed picked up. Going faster by the second, the runes soon became a blur as they seemed to mix together giving the appearance of a single ring floating in mid air. The speed became so much, a slight hum could be heard emanating from them.

A powerful blast came from the ring, the heroes felt a push against their bodies, forcing their bodies to shift backward slightly. Looking onward they saw it. A large oval floating just off the ground, pitch black in color, with an aura even darker then the tome. It was similar to the ones they've seen the Court use.

Sparrow longed to touch, seeing his desires within the black hole. Knowing that through it, he could cut open the monster that has caused him so much pain. He was quickly brought back into focus when something happened.

A new portal opened near them, as black as the one they just created. Through it stepped a familiar "face".

"JACK!" Sparrow yelled, his sword already drawn. The masked demon chuckled in response.

"Well look at you hero. Just finished with slaughtering my brother, now you are breaking into our home." His yellow eyes fixed on the blade in the hero's hand. "Ahh yes, Avo's Tear if I recall. Stings fiercely from what I remember. Tell me hero, did it feel good to take your anger out on Knight? Cutting him open then finding out who he really is."

A primal scream came from the hero as he charged the masked figure. Swinging his sword with enough force to tear down stone. But Jack's reflexes were quick. Bringing up a blade at the last moment to block the attack.

"Wonderful speed, great power," he commented, almost admiring his foe, "I see that my old friend has aided you well." A hint of surprise showed on the hero's face, causing another chuckle from Jack. "You continue to underestimate your opponents. Believe me, that will come back to haunt you."

Jack sent his armored knee into Sparrow's chest, forcing him to disengage and jump back. The hero couldn't place it, Jack seemed... stronger.

More dark portals ripped into the air, surrounding the area. From them, massive waves of zealots and Minions came. They all charged at the heroes, swinging their weapons wildly. They had never seen so many enemies at once, but they didn't hesitate. The four charged as well.

Sparrow didn't take his time with his new opponents, tearing through human and monster alike. His sword quickly became painted red with blood, small bits of stone clung to the blade as he shattered the Minion's stone armor to pieces. He kept his eyes focused, scanning the chaos for a single target.

The hero saw Jack, walking through the waves of enemies, heading towards Theresa and the portal. More and more waves of attackers came from the still open rifts. The feeling of becoming overwhelmed was constant as the heroes destroyed anyone who dared get close enough.

Sparrow cut a path through them all, racing towards Jack. The masked demon noticed the hero, swinging his blade at him. But Sparrow was the faster one this time, dodging the attack and slicing him across the arm.

Jack gave a grunt of annoyance to the wound, watching Sparrow prepare another strike. But the hero's focus was split, not noticing the zealot sneak up on him from behind. An attack to his back gave the message. Sparrow fell forward, his back bleeding from the cut. The zealot rose his sword again to finish him off, but Sparrow's faithful dog came in at the last moment. Catching the man by the neck and bringing him down.

Sparrow began to recover, remembering Jack was near. But as he looked up he saw him at the Black tome, still pulsing with power from the ritual.

"Ah, so this is the meddlesome thing that's causing this disturbance to our home." he said, raising his sword to the book. "I'm curious as to the outcome of this ritual if something were to happen to this book."

Sparrow's heart almost skipped a beat, he was going to destroy it. The hero tried to run after Jack, but the cut in his back only allowed him to limp slowly. Still not giving up, Sparrow charged a Will spell and threw it at him. Jack only raised a hand and hit the spell away. Then he brought his sword through the book.

The portal they had created imploded, creating a blinding flash that forced them all to shield their eyes. Sparrow felt his feet being kicked out from under him. A sense of falling followed, he prepared for the heavy thud of his landing, but it didn't occur. After the falling sensation, a sinking feeling came after.

Sparrow rubbed his eyes, gaining back his sights. He looked out and was instantly shocked. The hero was falling through the air.

Not knowing where he was or why, he flailed aimless in the sky. The sound of the passing wind and flapping of his coat in the high speeds caused his ears to ring. Looking down, he couldn't see the ground, only the blue sky and white clouds.

Sparrow reached for his belt, knowing he could transport himself away from this mess. But to his own fears, he reached down and felt nothing, his Seal was gone.

He didn't panic, keeping his calm, Sparrow tried to find a way out of it. But nothing came to mind. Soon the ground became clear, approaching it fast, Sparrow could only brace himself.

The hero came down hard, like a meteor striking the planet, creating a large crater for the surrounding land.

Sparrow tried standing, his body fighting his every attempt at moving. Enormous pain shot through him, feeling as though his body had been broken. He slowly limped out of the crater he made, but he didn't make it far. Collapsing into the dirt, the hero was taken by blackness as he lost consciousness.

**A/N: Well there ya go, a new update. Bah, I've been getting rather annoyed with my updating time. Seems like no matter how much time I try giving myself to work on this, it always takes me a week.**

**Ah well I guess, I've seen some fics that take months for updates... so yeah be grateful I'm not THAT bad. So yeah more plot being thrown around, wondering how many people I surprised with that little moment with the Knight. **

**So hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, will TRY to make the next one take less time then a week to finish, but I can't promise anything.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter: 19**

Sparrow's eyes slowly opened. Immediately he was almost blinded from his eyes being unable to adapt quick enough to the light around him. As his eyes adjusted, his mind took in what details he could.

He was in a small room, laying on his back. The room was simple, only bland essentials were around it.

Sparrow crawled out of the bed, as soon as he was on his feet, a sharp pain came into his side. Clutching at his ribs, Sparrow noticed he was only wearing his pants and a strange shirt that didn't belong to him. Opening the shirt showed bandages criss-crossing on his chest.

The hero then heard humming, it was from a female's voice, each note sounding more beautiful then the last. Wanting to find some answers, Sparrow followed the voice, holding his side and limping toward it. Following the humming, he saw more of his location. It looked as though he were in a house.

As the sound grew louder, Sparrow ended up leaving the house. Just outside he found the source of the noise. A woman was standing at an old water pump, humming a harmonious tune as she pumped water into a wooden bucket.

The water and the music stopped. The woman picked up the bucket and turned to walk back to the home. She was startled into dropping the bucket as she noticed Sparrow leaning against her door way.

"Where... am..." he tried saying, moving towards her, but the pain had become too much and he was engulfed in an unconscious darkness. The woman gasped and knelt towards, calling out "father".

Sparrow's mind began to come back. He looked up, finding himself laying down again. But he was noticing the person next to him, it was the woman he had seen before, before everything went black.

She didn't seem to notice the stir in the hero, she just sat next to him. She ran her fingers across his hair, while rubbing his forehead with a warm, damp rag.

"Poor guy," she said, talking to herself, her voice sounding as sweet and beautiful as her humming, "battered so badly, I hope he can pull through."

"I've been through worse," Sparrow muttered, causing the woman to gasp and jump backward in surprise. "Sorry," he apologized with a slight chuckle. Getting up, the pain returned to his side, but it had been reduced drastically since the first time.

"You need to lay back down," she protested, trying to push him back onto his back, "the doctor said you should be out of it for at least another week."

"_Another_ week?" he asked as her attempts to force him down stopped.

"Yes," she nodded, "you've been out of it for almost a week". It was then Sparrow got a good look at his savior. She was young, slightly younger then himself. Her hair was a perfect shade of dark brown, laying down just past her shoulders. Looking at her body, the hero couldn't help but admit how well she looked. Her curves were something that could drive any man crazy, each step she took in the small room made her body turn to show her off in every way. But her eyes are what got Sparrow the most.

Blue, the strangest hue he had ever seen. A normal shade was dominant, but a lighter blue swirled around with it. Her eyes looked as though they were filled with the purest of ocean waters. Sparrow could feel himself drown just by looking into them. Only until she turned her gaze away was he able to unlock his own.

She handed him a small vial without a word. Curiously, Sparrow sniffed the contents, a sweet smell came into his senses. Throwing caution to the wind, he downed the liquid quickly. The taste was even better, tasting somewhat of honey.

Sparrow soon regretted the decision. His cuts started to burn as if they were on fire, his muscles tightened to the point he thought they would split his skin open. Sparrow lost his breath as his heart stopped beating momentarily. While his head began swimming, a familiar feeling of unconsciousness started creeping into him, but the hero fought it back, falling off of his bed and onto the floor.

As soon as his body thudded on the wooden floorboards, it all stopped. Breathing heavily, he felt his blood pouring back into his veins, stinging his limbs as his nerves got the juice they needed.

"I'm sorry," the woman apologized, helping him back up on the bed.

"Wha-what was... that?" Sparrow said, trying to finish his sentence through his heavy breaths.

"Medicine the doctor gave us, said to use it when you awoke. But like I said, you needed another week to rest and heal, I guess that was a side effect of taking it too early." She gave an embarrassed smile, Sparrow could only return it.

As Sparrow regained his scrambled senses, he caught something. Turning his head, he saw what he had noticed. Standing in the rooms doorway was an aged man. He was tall and well built, probably a retired guard or sheriff from how strong he looked. His hair was a lifeless gray, strips of white randomly placed within it.

The woman noticed him as well, jumping with joy from her spot and embracing him in a tight hug.

"Welcome back father," her father hugged back, but he didn't take his eyes away from the hero.

"So our guest is alive and well," he commented finally, showing a smile to him.

"I owe you and your daughter a fair deal," Sparrow said, standing slowly to shake his hand. The man's grip felt like it was made of iron.

"Come," he motioned out of the room, "lets get comfortable and discuss things." They made it to the houses kitchen, sitting at a wooden table. The man found a set of glasses and poured a yellowish fluid in each, handing one to his daughter and guest.

Sparrow sniffed the glass cautiously, remembering the last strange liquid he had taken. The man noticed and gave a small chuckle.

"Don't worry," he said, already sipping from his own glass," it's cider." With less hesitation, Sparrow took a sip. True to the man's word, it _was_ cider. Alcoholic apple cider to be exact. Feeling an old taste come back to him, the hero quickly drained his glass, involuntarily smacking his lips.

"Good eh?" he asked, finishing his own glass as well. Sparrow nodded his answer and earned a proud smile from the man. "That's good to hear. I make it myself, the finest cider around, the fools down at the town are crazy for it." His daughter gave a slight laugh.

"Only father knows how to make it though, hasn't even allowed me to help him." The statement had a peculiar effect on the old man, he gave a light sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"I've told you, I would rather not get used to your help then see you leave after..."

"Father," his daughter interrupted, "not now." Then she got an odd look about her as well, something that intrigued the hero, but he decided to find out about it later.

For a moment there was an awkward silence, the subject that had almost been brought up took away the cheerful aura between the two strangers. Then almost suddenly the old man gave an annoyed tap to his forehead with his palm.

"Oh stupid me, all of this talking and we haven't said anything at all, have we." He reached out his hand and gave Sparrow another iron tight shake. "The name's Brollin, I'm a retired Sheriff of Skyreach."

"Skyreach?" Sparrow asked.

"Yes, have you not heard of it?" The hero just shook his head, causing Brollin to frown. "Hm, that's a shame. Anyway, while me and my daughter were out enjoying the scenery, we heard a large explosion. We came to find you laying near a crater." Sparrow winced slightly, a bad memory of his last conscious moments were burned into his mind.

"We had assumed you were robbed by bandits," Brollin's daughter finished, "they have started to use explosives in their raids, we figured that's what made the crater." Sparrow rubbed his chin in thought. His saviors didn't know who he was, he was sure of that.

"Well thank you for your help," he said, smiling to the woman in front of him.

"It wouldn't be right," she replied, " and neither is postponing introductions. Elizabeth is my name... and you?"

Sparrow hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether or not he should tell them his name. The attention wasn't something he wanted.

"Sparrow," he finally said, unable to think of a false one. They both just gave a nod. Sparrow inwardly gave a sigh of relief, realizing they didn't recognize his real name.

After that Sparrow listened as Brollin and Elizabeth talked about the town near them. Though Sparrow didn't hear much from them, he was too busy pondering what had happened. Remembering when they were trying to preform that ritual that went wrong after Jack tipped his hand in it. He didn't know where his friends were, more then likely, they were dead. The reprocutions had almost killed him, he doubted the others would be able to withstand a similar fate.

The hero's thoughts were interrupted, a heavy banging came against the houses front door. Brollin sat up and went to see who it was. As he opened the door, Sparrow could see his face lose it's jolly attitude and gain a more serious look.

"What do you want?" he demanded to his unknown visitor, from the angle, the hero could only make out a small glimpse of the man. Short and round were the dominant traits he had. His head was balding, what hair he had was formed into a comb over and greasy, as if he hadn't washed it in a long time. Wearing a red noble's robes with pitch black pants, the material seemed to be very pricey.

"Price has gone up," the man said, his voice was slick and smooth, each word seemed to be laced with poison.

"What, again!"

"Yes Brollin, you know the procedure. Either you pay up or else you find that I can get quite... unhappy." Sparrow almost couldn't believe what he was hearing, the man looked like he couldn't be a threat to a child let alone a well trained veteran.

But despite the absurdity of it all, Brollin reached into his pockets and dropped almost a dozen gold coins into the man's outstretched hand. There Sparrow noticed something that rose him into shock, the back of the man's hand was tattooed, marked with a symbol of an opened semi-circle that had daggers running through it. It was the same tattoo that the Zealots who served Jack wore.

"Thank you Brollin," the man said, giving a weaselly laugh.

"Who was that?" Sparrow asked, after the stranger left and Brollin returned to the table.

"Veger," he replied with a sigh, "the town's unofficial ruler. Ever since that damned cult took over, they have been trying to bleed us dry for our money."

Brollin explained all he knew, how not too long ago a group of men dressed in black with white cowls attacked. They took over and imposed there own will on the people. Anyone who went against them were publicly executed.

"Too bad those damned heroes can't see fit to aid the people they are supposed to protect," Brollin finished, his voice changing to a darker tone.

"You seem to have some hatred of heroes," Sparrow commented, slightly tapping the glass he held. He grunted heavily at the comment.

"Damn right I do, sure that Lionheart saved us from the Spire. But it was only for his own people, the lands this far out in Albion have always been ignored. They have as much blood on their hands as those damned cultists." His words struck hard on the hero, not because of how bad it was against heroes, but the truth in it. Sparrow hadn't even heard of this place, yet he was expected to protect it.

"Father," Elizabeth broke in, "the heroes risk their lives to protect people, we have to give them that."

Brollin just grunted again, drinking the rest of his cider and putting away the glass. Sparrow finished his too. Setting down the glass he got up.

"Well... I still can't thank you enough for the help," Sparrow said, getting up from his seat.

"You aren't leaving are you?" Elizabeth asked.

"Well no... not yet really. I'd like to get my bearings and see the town though."

"Oh, how about we show you ourselves? Will be much more exciting if you have a guide, and the trip will be easier if you go by wagon."

"Uh... all right," he agreed, finding it hard to talk normally around her. "Do you know where my things are?" She nodded and led him back to the room he had awoken in. His items were laying in a neat pile on a table.

Though his shirt was almost cut into ribbons, it still held up. Shedding the one his rescuers had given him, he exposed his wounded chest, forgetting his guide was still in the room.

"Oh!" Elizabeth gasped as she saw him, "Sorry, I'll just... leave now," she said, her face turning a bright red.

Sparrow shrugged it off and dressed himself, noticing again that his Seal was missing from his belt. Without it, he was stuck there. With no real idea of where he was, he doubted he could make a trip to Bowerstone.

Searching through the rest of his things he noticed most of supplies was missing as well, even his gold pouch had been torn open, only a few coins rested inside. But his weapons had made it, his pistol tucked away in his coat, and Avo's Tear resting at his side.

"Fine looking blade," Sparrow turned to see Brollin standing in the doorway, eying the sword he was wearing.

"Yeah, it's uh... a family heirloom," though it was somewhat true, it felt odd to lie about it. Brollin seemed to accept it and left. Leaving Sparrow to finish dressing himself.

Leaving the room, he was ushered outside the house. There, he was able to notice were he was.

The house was the only one in the area, not another building could be seen around them. An orchard of apple trees was behind the house, apparently grown for the cider. Elizabeth and Brollin lead the hero to the left of the house, a wooden structure stood tall was in their direction. As they came inside, Sparrow was startled to see a wagon inside. Strapped to it were two horses.

"Never seen a horse before?" Elizabeth asked after seeing his reaction.

"N-no I prefer walking," he replied, quickly shaking off his shock. Elizabeth only giggled to herself before hopping into the wagon, next to her father. Sparrow jumped in as well and they rode off.

Following a dirt path, they wined down large hills on grassy fields. The clip-clop of the horses' steps was the only sound they made.

When they rode over the tallest hill and reached the top, Sparrow saw where they were headed. A large town could be seen over the horizon. Though it was smaller when compared to Bowerstone, Skyreach was still a massive place in it's own right.

"Over there," Brollin started, pointing out to the tallest building that could be seen from their distance, "that's Skyreach Tower. The reason for the town's current wealth."

"Looks like an old building to me," Sparrow commented, not seeing any real value of it.

"It's not just any building. Hundreds of years ago, it was created by a Will user as a means to observe the heavens above the world. During the time it was visited by countless other heroes in the study. After the fall of the Guild, scholars came to see for themselves and eventually built the town around it. Only good things heroes have done in my opinion."

"What's happened to it now?"

"Well, researchers still used it. But after that cult took over, it was closed off."

As they came into the town, they traveled to different sections, Brollin and Elizabeth explaining things about each. But Sparrow hardly heard them, his mind was too distant, too focused on what he saw. Each street they passed had Zealots standing guard, watching over the people as they walked, snuffing out anything they didn't like.

Sparrow couldn't believe that Jack's influence would stretch so far already. But what he hated the most was how nostalgic it was to the days when the Court had full control of Albion, the memories of his ancestry forced him to know that he has failed these people. The hero was too lost to notice the wagon coming to a stop.

"Here Sparrow," Brollin said, "it's the town square. I figure you would want to take your own look to see what our town has." Sparrow caught on and nodded, jumping from his seat. "Just remember, stay away from those cultists, don't want to go saving your life to see you lose it so quickly."

"And be sure to see us soon, before you leave town at least," his daughter added. Sparrow gave them a tip of his hat and they rode off.

Alone, Sparrow searched through his pockets, finding they were still lacking in money. Noticing a blacksmith's shop in the distance gave him an idea. The sky was still bright, showing the many hours ahead until nightfall.

Sparrow then spent a few hours working for the blacksmith, earning enough gold to satisfy him for the moment. The hero was at least glad his craftsmanship hadn't weakened over the years.

With money in hand, Sparrow found the local Inn. A two story building that held a bar on the bottom floor, and rooms at the top. Stars Rest it was called.

Sparrow entered, watching as a few patrons gave a curious glance to the newcomer. The keeper however was more then pleased to see a new wallet coming in to spend. He paid for a room and sat down at the main counter, setting a small pile of coins for his first round.

As soon as he had his first drink, he felt someone's presence over him. Looking over his shoulder he spotted a man standing next to him, looking at him.

The man was well muscular, with a great stature. His hair was a charcoal black that was spiked around the top of his head but short around the sides. The makings of a beard came down across his face.

Without a word, the man sat down next to Sparrow, not taking his gaze away. After a moment he lifted his hand as if to shake.

"Well hello hero," the man said, in almost a whisper to where no one else heard, when Sparrow showed his surprise the man smiled, "the names Beck."

**A/N: Dun dun dun... allright chap 19 has been made and read. Kinda proud of myself how fast I got it done, especially since last chapter I complained about my own updating speed... maybe I should tear myself down more often...**

**Any way, this chapter isn't that great to begin with, just a bit of introductorys to different things that are going to help the story along. But hope you guys have enjoyed it all the same.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter: 20**

"What?" Sparrow asked in confusion to the man sitting next to him.

"My name is Walter Beck," he repeated, putting further detail on his previous statement.

"And you know who I am?" the hero continued. Having gone unnoticed in the town so far, a random stranger picking him out from a crowd was too odd.

"How wouldn't I? The hero Lionheart, known for wearing his trademark coat and hat, your hardly inconspicuous." Sparrow gave a grunt into his glass, understanding the logic behind it.

"Well it seems no one else has noticed," he commented, causing Walter to give a hearty chuckle.

"No offense, but heroes aren't the most liked topic in this town. Only worst pariah I've seen are those cultists."

"I've noticed," Sparrow sighed heavily, thinking of the misguided hatred Brollin showed.

Walter then reached behind himself and dropped an iron mug. It was simply designed and completely smooth, the only markings on it was an insignia indented on the side.

"Personal mug?" Sparrow inquired, raising an eyebrow to the sight, as the barkeeper filled it up.

"Family treasure," he answered, gaining an ever growing grin, "its been passed down for generations. Its the only thing I use to drink with."

"So your family's a bunch of drunks?" Sparrow asked with a smirk, the question caused Walter's grin to become a full blown laughing fit.

"You could say that."

The next few hours were spent with them discussing their lives. Though since Walter already knew Sparrow's story, he did most of the talking. The hero learned interesting things from him. Beck lived in Skyreach for most of his life, his knowledge over the heroes was from stories that no one else cared to hear. Working in law most of his life, he was sheriff of Skyreach until the Cult of Blades took over. During their conversation, Sparrow couldn't help but think of James. Thinking of their own talks between drinks, a treat that was now forever lost.

After their conversation had ended, Sparrow's mind wandered around the rest of the bar. Normal people sitting around and drinking, nothing different then any other bar he had been to. One patron in particular caught his attention as he motioned for the barkeeper's attention.

"One Jack O' Blades," he called out. An odd request but the barkeeper didn't seem to notice, he reached under the counter and pulled out a mug and bottle, filling it. The drink was a red liquid in a black glass mug. Three small knives were tied to it's handle. Before the man could even touch the drink, a shot echoed through the bar and the mug shattered.

Every living soul in the bar jumped up from their seats. Some showed fear, others showed hostility, raising their own swords and pistols. They all looked around for the source of the attack, they then saw the newcomer in an old coat and hat. His pistol out and still smoking from a recent shot.

Sparrow's sights were on the exact spot where the mug used to be. Though his pupils were locked on, his eyes seemed distant, like his mind was in another world entirely. After a quick blink and shake of his head, Sparrow realized what he had done. Before anything could escalate, he tucked his gun away and made it to the man whose drink he just destroyed.

"My apologies," he said, though the words were true, his tone had no hint of any sincerity. But it didn't matter to the patron as the hero dropped a few coins in front of him, to pay for the drink and mug he had just broken.

Everyone had their eyes on Sparrow as he walked out of the bar, Walter following.

They went outside and up to Sparrow's room. The room was well furnished, though not up to par with an actual home, it even had it's own fireplace tucked neatly against the wall.

"Mind telling me what that was about?" Beck asked, surpriseing Sparrow slightly, having hardly noticed him.

Sparrow told Walter what had been happening, Jacks return, as well as his current situation. Even though they had just met, Sparrow felt as though he could discuss anything with him. Walter looked surprised by the news.

"So this Jack is the leader of this Cult..." Walter murmured, rubbing his chin in thought, "So... what now?"

"I don't know," answered Sparrow, laying down on his bed and staring at the ceiling. Though it felt somewhat good to talk about what had been happening, it also brought back the pain of his failures.

His own failures weighed hard on him. He was given the power of his ancestors, yet he was still losing to Jack. Sure he killed the Knight, but for what reason? To find out he murdered his own friend and the woman he loved might as well be dead. Every turn Sparrow tried to make was easily countered by Jack, now he could see his hold on Albion starting to grow, maybe he already won.

"Jack was right," Sparrow muttered, mostly to himself, "Black's blood was wasted on me."

"So that's it then? You've given up?"

Sparrow stood from his bed and looked directly at Walter, his gaze able to pierce stone, anger crossing his face.

"Look around you Beck, " the hero yelled, "see what Jack has done. How many more towns does he have influence over? How much longer until all of Albion is like this?" Walter didn't answer, he didn't need to. "Don't fool yourself like I used to."

"Albion needs a hero, Sparrow..." Walter tried saying, his voice becoming sympathetic, trying to understand what the hero was going through.

"Yeah, well... maybe I'm not that hero." Sparrow turned away and stood in front of the fire, staring into the crackling flames. Beck approached the hero, gripping his shoulder.

"You can't let Jack win, think of the innocent people who have already died because of him, the people who will die after he takes control. A hero doesn't stop until he either wins or falls." Sparrow didn't say a word, keeping his eyes on the blaze before him.

Walter removed his hand and tugged at the hero's arm.

"Come," he said, trying to pull him toward the door, "there's something I want to show you." Sparrow allowed himself to be moved, following Beck outside. They came out and went behind the Inn. It looked like a normal vacant space, only a few crates and barrels laid around in the area.

Sparrow looked around the area, unable to see anything special, unable to see anything at all. Before he could ask why, his senses caught danger. Instinctively he rose his blade up, catching a sword as it attempted to cut him down. Following the blade to it's owner, he saw Walter, preforming a master's fighting stance.

"What are you doing?" Sparrow spat, more bewildered then angry, Walter just locked his eyes into Sparrows and smirked.

"Reminding you," he said, with determination that even made the hero gain a hint of intimidation.

They pushed each other off their blades, Beck was quick to attack again. Though his swings were fast, they were far from reckless. Each attack became an opposite of the last, aiming for the most vulnerable spot.

Sparrow didn't attack back, only using his blade defensively. Despite his overwhelmed confusion, he had to admit the man was a skilled swordsman.

After some time had passed between their fight, Sparrow decided to end it. Kicking Walter back, he rushed him. Preforming a full circle and bringing his sword down with both hands, his own blade sliced through Beck's, cutting it in half.

The man just stared at his hilt in shock.

"Bloody hell Sparrow, you only went and broke it."

"Heh, sorry," he apologized, giving a chuckle.

"Think nothing of it, but damn," Walter replied, returning the chuckle and tossing the broken blade aside, "an amazing feat by a hero."

Oddly enough, the skirmish did make Sparrow feel better. They both shared another laugh, while complimenting each others own skill. The good time quickly stopped however when the sound of approaching footsteps could be heard.

"Hey," shouted a commanding voice, "whats going on back there?" A cultist guard stepped forward, eying the two.

"Oh balls," Walter muttered under his breath. The guard looked around for any hint of wrongdoing, any reason to kill them both.

"You," he said, pointing to Sparrow, "I've seen you working with the blacksmith, you earned a hefty pile of gold. And more then likely, you still have most of it."

"Your point?" Sparrow shot back, not being intimidated by a lowly cultist. The guard gave a piercing glare to the hero.

"My _point _is that you can have one of two accidents. You either misplace all your hard earned gold... or you become the victim of a random act of street crime." the cultist patted his side where a pistol and sword were hanging.

Sparrow merely shrugged, showing no signs of fear from terrible threats. But he obliged, untieing his gold pouch and tossing it to the guard's outstretched hand. It missed, landing on the ground beside him.

The guard bent to pick it up, grunting in amusement as he felt the weight of the gold.

"Thank you for your co-" the guard didn't finish, he couldn't. The cold blade cutting through his back stopped him. While he tried to turn to see his attacker, Sparrow leaned closer from behind.

"Don't you just hate random street crime?" he asked in a hushed whisper. The guard tried to yell, to call out for help from other cultists. But all that came out was a sickening gurgle and blood that stained his white cowl to red.

Sparrow twisted the blade upward, severing his spine and piercing through his heart. Though the cultist couldn't scream, a horrific groan shook from the body. By the time Sparrow removed his blade, the cultist's lifeless body dropped onto the pavement.

Walter could only stare wide-eyed at the sight, too shocked to say anything. He watched as Sparrow knelt before the guard, wiping the blade clean off his cloths and searching through his garments.

"Here," Sparrow said while tossing the cultist's sword, "a fitting replacement." The hero pulled away a good sized black leather pouch, the jingle of coins could be heard with it's slightest movement. He pocketed it before tieing his own pouch back to his belt.

"Th-that was..." Walter was still astonished by what he saw, his time as a sheriff had forced him to see incredible things, but watching a hero in action like that made him speechless.

"I have a thing against muggers and idle threats," the hero simply stated.

"Yeah well... all this excitement is tiring, think I'll retire early,"

They gave farewells and departed. Sparrow went back to his room, resting on the bed while he stared at the ceiling and thought about his day. His thoughts ended on the old sheriff and his daughter, while his mind went black and he fell asleep.

When morning finally came, Sparrow rose from his bed as drowsy as ever. The night was hard on the hero, being plagued by nightmares throughout the night. Visioning Albion's destruction. The skies burned with an endless fire, the oceans were empty and the land was barren and lifeless.

Sparrow was quick to shake the visions away, they were only dreams after all. He decided to visit Brollin and Elizabeth, to have a talk and try to figure out what his newest course of action should be.

The hero was able to catch a ride from someone riding close to the house, giving him a much shorter journey then by foot.

They greeted him well, glad to see his return, even feeding him breakfast.

The three then talked about the town, Sparrow mentioning what he saw and his meeting with Walter, it was no surprise to him that they knew him as well.

Once again their conversation was stopped by a heavy beating on the front door. Brollin answered it to be pushed out of the way by Veger and two cultists.

"What do you want Veger, we are trying to have a nice conversation," Brollin demanded, not showing an ounce of fear from the guards. The weasel just strolled around the room, casually looking at the house and it's decor.

"One of our own was found dead outside Stars Rest Inn. He was cut open like a pig at the butchers with his weapons and gold stolen."

"What does it have to do with me?" he asked, becoming irritated for the sudden and unneeded intrusion. "And why should I care?" Veger gave a sigh before turning to the old man.

"You know the people well around here, if anyone could spot a killer, it's you. And why should you care? Well I can't force you to want to protect your guardians," he gave a glance to Elizabeth a disgusting grin growing on his face. "But you know, the new brothel in the town has been opened, maybe you can bring your daughter down to visit."

Brollin gave the man a death glare, trying to make his eyes somehow rip him apart.

"I'll keep my eyes open," he eventually said with a sigh.

"Good," Veger replied, his grin remaining on his face, his sights were then set onto Sparrow, "and who is this?"

"Martin," Brollin said quickly, not giving Sparrow the chance to answer himself, "hes Elizabeth's cousin, came by a week ago to visit."

"Hmph, well make sure he keeps out of trouble, newcomers seem to disappear often now adays." And with that, the uninvited guests left. Leaving a cloud of hate in the room.

"A cultist was killed..." Brollin murmured, "who could of done something like that?"

"Maybe it was a surprise attack," Sparrow suggested, inwardly chuckling about it. "Oh, I almost forgot." He reached into his coat and dropped the black gold pouch on the table, Elizabeth immediately took it and began sifting through its contents. "A thank you gift for all you've done."

"This is a lot of gold Sparrow," she said, still trying to count the coins, "much more then we spent helping you."

"Where I come from it's called interest."

"And where would that be?" Brollin broke in, sitting back down at the table and eying the hero. Sparrow thought about the answer for a moment, figuring it didn't matter to lie.

"A town called Bowerstone," the answer didn't have any noticeable effect on either of them, "heard of it?"

"Bowerstone eh?... Yeah, I think I've heard of it. Isn't it that place that hero Lionheart lived?" Sparrow nodded.

"Does that mean you knew him?" Elizabeth asked almost excitedly, leaning closer to be more apart of the conversation.

"Uh, not really. I saw him once of twice but never talked to him." She seemed disappointed by the answer, having wanted to find out more about the hero.

"Well then," Brollin declared, grabbing the bag of gold and pocketing it, "with this increase in funds, I say I can make my trip to the market early."

Sparrow and Elizabeth decided to join him on the trip. When they got to the village, Brollin left the two alone to talk while he shopped for supplies.

"So what brought you all the way out here?" she asked as they walked down the streets.

"I needed to get away from problems I've been having," he simply answered. His mind being somewhat distracted by the people of Skyreach.

The town was still alive despite it's current misfortunes, but it didn't take away from the dark aura that seeped from the very streets. Even the people showed it, as they went about their lives, they all glanced uneasily at their surroundings. They all showed their worry, fearing their next move could be their last.

"Sparrow!" Elizabeth shouted in his ear for the third time. His sudden alertness to her brought a smile to her face as she saw he was finally listening. "Looks like you're about to doze off."

"I... I'm fine," he replied, turning his gaze back to where they were walking.

"Doesn't look like it," she said after folding her arms, "is something wrong?" Sparrow answered with a shake of his head. Though she didn't buy it, she knew he wouldn't explain everything so easily. "So what do you plan on doing now?"

"Go west probably."

"To Bowerstone?"

"If Bowerstone's west." A smirk started to cross his mouth.

"I don't get you," she replied, shaking her head. Sparrow could only chuckle.

"You know a bit about me, how about yourself? From what I've gathered, you recently came here?"

"Yeah..." she replied. It then became her time to stare off into the streets. Her eyes suddenly became lost in a sea of memories. "I left my town and came here to see my father, I lost someone... close to me." A heavy intake of air came and went from her, Sparrow couldn't tell if she was sighing or suppressing the need to cry.

"I'm sorry," he said his sympathy as real as he could make it. "I understand what it's like to lose the people closest to you." The comment forced him to remember what had happened the last few weeks. James dieing in his arms and his realization that Alex was gone. Before he had to dwell too far on it, a familiar face approached them.

"Well hello Elizabeth," Beck greeted with a smile.

"Walter!" she said enthusiastically, embracing him in a hug, her previous sadness non-existent.

"It's good to see you again too Sparrow," he said, eying the hero. They both shook hands but before he could spark a conversation Sparrow turned to them both.

"You two talk. I need a bit to myself, clear my head a bit."

Sparrow left them alone and walked down a random street. It had started getting dark, the people on the streets began leaving, even the amount of cultists seemed to lessen. The solitude gave the hero the perfect place to think.

He didn't know why, but the helpless feeling couldn't be shaken from his mind. The knowledge of Jack's victory weighed heavy on him. Knowing how he had failed.

Even if he could still do something, Sparrow didn't know if he wanted to. What was left for him to fight for? Everyone he cared about was gone. But Beck's words still echoed in his head. All the innocent people who have died, all the innocents who will die. He thought about Walter, Brollin, and Elizabeth. People who had shown him such kindness. He could also remember the people he met on his journey against Lucien. Could he do nothing while a monster plotted to kill them?

Albion thought of him as a hero, they expected him to protect them. But Sparrow doubted he could, no hero could alone. He doubted four heroes could. But as Beck said, heroes don't quit until they either win or fall. But maybe he already has.

The sun had already set, the night sky blanketed over the town. Not much light could be seen, even the hero had trouble seeing very far in the darkness. Sparrow took in a deep breath of the chilling night air. Though he said he wanted to clear his head, he failed in accomplishing that.

Before he could continue his own thoughts, a strange feeling came over him. He couldn't tell how, but he could feel that something was going to happen, something terrible. Following his instincts, Sparrow ran off into the night.

Elsewhere in the town, Elizabeth was walking the streets, seeing the sights while she tried locating Sparrow or her father.

Walter had left over an hour ago, leaving her to collect her thoughts on the strange man she and her father rescued. Sparrow was quite a quandary to her. Though she was sure Sparrow thought the same to her, being secretive about herself. But she wasn't ready to talk about her past to most people.

Elizabeth continued pondering over the man as she walked down the dark streets, unaware of the shadows following unseen behind her.

**A/N: Alllllright! Return of the Court has reached the twenties! Heh, dunno if that's a good thing or bad thing yet. While long stories are nice, they are only nice if they aren't filled with rubbish (pretty sure mine are getting that way).**

**Anyway, everything is going along well with how I have these events planned out. And I've been getting a bit better with update speed. Maybe I'll be able to update once a day! … Yeah, wouldn't hold my breath.**


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter: 21**

A small light post was lighting the streets as Elizabeth approached it.

While she stood under it's hypnotic glow, she heard a scuffling sound behind her. Turning to see it's source, she could not make anything out in the darkness. The noise came again, sounding much closer this time.

Again when she turned, nothing could be seen to indicate what made the sound.

Getting annoyed, she began walking away, determined to ignore whatever sound it was. But it came a third time, but to her own fright, it was next to her. When she turned she was startled, standing in the light was a cultist.

His eyes were fixed on her, and from the slight upward push of his cowl, she could tell he was grinning.

Backing away slowly, she kept her sights on him, making sure she would catch any movement from the cultist. Then from the shadows, emerged two more, all giving signs of their own facial expression.

Without waiting, Elizabeth spun on her heels and made a run for it. The cultists snorted a laugh between one another before giving chase. She could hear their footsteps echoing on the streets with her own. From the sound of it, more cultists had joined the others.

As her fear began mounting, she wanted to scream, to cry out for help. But she knew it was useless. No one in their right mind would help someone else against the cultists, no one would survive it. Her only option was to run, to keep away from her pursuers.

A piece of broken pavement brought an end to her escape. Striking her foot against it, she tumbled downward, hitting the ground hard. Before she could recuperate, a cultist grabbed her and held her down.

"Don't hurt that pretty little face, love," the cultist said laughing. "What do you think boys, she good enough for the Brothel?" Though the darkness hid their features, Elizabeth could make out their forms as they started surrounding her.

"I'd say she'd be the best," one of them replied.

"Think we should have some fun with her first," another remarked. Elizabeth struggled against the cultist holding her, figuring out what their plans for her were. One of the cultists pushed through the others, from the outline he made it was obvious he was the strongest.

"I'll break her in first," he said, the others grunting amusingly.

Elizabeth's fear was overtaking her. As she tried screaming, a cultist's hand grabbed her mouth, stifling her noise. Tears began flowing down her face as the cultist began tearing at his pants in an attempt to remove them as quickly as possible. She shut her eyes to try and hide her fear.

While Elizabeth waited for her attackers to take her, a strange sound came that was followed by silence.

It was similar to the sound of a knife to a slab of meat. She looked and saw the cultist, still clutching at his waist looking down. A large, orange blade was stuck between the cultist's legs. The glow from the weapon gave enough light to see the belligerent look on his face. Seconds later, the blade popped, destroying whatever was left of his manhood.

As the cultist fell to the ground screaming, a gunshot sounded off. The weight of the cultist holding her was immediately lifted, being proceeded by a splatter of warm blood across her face.

Elizabeth had no clue what was going on, the darkness hid what events that were transpiring in front of her. Only able to see the outlines of the cultists, one figure was moving faster then the rest. Others falling to the ground. The sounds of shouting, clanking metal, and the tearing of flesh filled the air.

After the sounds stopped it was silence for a few moments. Still unable to see, Elizabeth tried standing and catch her bearings. Before she could act though, a light flickered on. There she saw him, Sparrow holding one of the cultists by the throat.

To her own shock the light had come from him, his hand had caught on fire, illuminating the area. But it appeared to have no effect on him, the flames burned around his fingers but not harming the flesh. It wasn't the only shocking thing she saw. His veins were glowing, a bright blue hue that gave it's own small light

She saw the dead bodies of the cultists strewn about the ground, some cut into pieces, others even had their intestines hanging out.

Sparrow noticed Elizabeth standing and locked eyes with her.

"Go, now," he barked. The intensity in his face was nothing she had ever seen before, even the cultists didn't come close when they executed people. Elizabeth didn't hesitate, she ran away from the scene in search of her father, unable to take her mind away from the man who had saved her.

With no one else around, Sparrow's grip on the cultist's throat tightened. A cry of pain came from him as he grabbed at the hero's hand, trying to pull him away.

"Where can I find Jack of Blades!" he demanded, only loosening his grip enough to allow the cultist to speak.

"Burn in the Void!" the cultist spat while trying to catch his breath. Sparrow's glare on him deepened.

"Bad choice of words," he commented. Bringing his fiery hand up, he ran it across the cultist's leg. A powerful blast of flames engulfed the limb. The cultist screamed his throat dry.

"Bastard!" he cried out, spitting at the hero. With a grunt of annoyance, the hero did the same to the other leg, taking longer then he had before. "Please stop," the cultist finally cried.

"Where!" Sparrow asked again, tearing the cowl off the cultist's face to hear him better.

"I-I don't know where the master is, only... more powerful members would."

"Like who!"

"...V-Veger would know."

"Where would I find him?"

"He isn't in town today, had to meet with superiors. Tomorrow night..."

"_Then_ where will he be?"

"The tower... he made it his home after he was given power over the town..." Sparrow was satisfied with the answer.

"Good," he said, placing his other hand on the cultist's neck and twisting. An audible snap sounded as his neck was broken. He dropped the body with the others, summoning a flame spell that engulfed the corpses. In a matter of moments they were gone, turned to ash and being carried away by the wind.

Sparrow felt an uneasy sense of over satisfaction with taking their lives. He had followed his senses through the empty streets, trying to locate what was behind it. It soon became clear when he saw the cultists attacking Elizabeth, he killed them all to protect her, enjoying every second of it.

The hero shook off his current excitement. He now had a plan, to wait for Veger and force cooperation from him.

Knowing Elizabeth would be alright now, he went to Stars Rest Inn, ordered a drink and went to bed for the night.

Sparrow had awoken later then usual, though it was still daylight outside, morning was gone. Remembering the cultist's last words, he knew he would have to wait until nightfall to head to the tower. No matter what would happen there, he would need to leave Skyreach. The thought of going without at least saying goodbye to the people he had befriended wasn't something he wanted. He decided to go to Brollin's home for the last time.

Acquiring a ride was as easy the first time, he quickly made it to the house. As he entered, he was not greeted with the same cheerfulness as last time.

Brollin sat at the table, drinking a bottle of cider and reading a book. His attention was shifted as he saw the hero come in. A small smile was given before he returned to his reading. Sparrow didn't see Elizabeth.

"Good evening," Sparrow greeted, sitting down next to the old sheriff. He didn't reply, allowing a heavy silence to grow. Their eyes met a few times but nothing was said. "Where's Elizabeth?" he finally asked.

"Out," he answered, not looking up from his book. After a while Brollin closed his reading material and gave a sigh. "I know what happened the other night," he said, startling Sparrow.

"What?" he asked, feigning ignorance poorly.

"Elizabeth told me what happened, and what you did doesn't surprise me, hero." Sparrow's jaw almost dropped, how he could find out his identity was beyond him.

"How..." he tried asking, earning a loud grunt and glare from Brollin.

"I may be old but I'm no fool Sparrow," he finished his glass of cider, preparing for an explanation. "It was obvious, you weren't robbed, what bandits would leave so many of your items behind?" he pointed to the sword strapped to his side. "That sword alone looks like it could make someone rich for ten lifetimes." The hero inwardly smacked himself. "Not to mention your name and clothing," He slid the book he was reading over to him. To Sparrow's surprise it was a copy of his biography. He didn't even know copies would make it that far into Albion.

Though it didn't surprise him, the author of it was determined to make sure it went to not just Albion, but the world. Regretting ever allowing it to be written was a constant for the hero.

"But... if you knew..." Sparrow started, thinking of Brollin's dislike of heroes. Brollin sighed to the hero.

"I knew who you were from the start, but that did not change the fact you were injured and unconscious. Besides, even if I wanted to leave you, Elizabeth would never allow it."

"Then why keep me now?"

"Like I said, Elizabeth would never have allowed me to send you away. Even when I was sure you were alright. She seemed to have taken a liking to you." Sparrow brushed the last comment off, knowing his daughter was just a friendly person. "Then what happens? You saved my daughter's life. Though she doesn't fully understand what happened, I know enough."

"She was in trouble and needed help," the hero replied. Brollin shook his head.

"No no. Despite what you think, you didn't do it because your a noble hero, but because your a noble man. Maybe, I was wrong about you heroes. Or at least wrong about you Sparrow," he held out his hand to the hero, "thank you." Sparrow returned the gesture, feeling the man's grip more comforting rather then his usual iron grasp.

"I should be thanking you, you and your daughter's generosity has effected more then just my outer wounds." Brollin understood what the hero was saying and showed a smile.

"Then I trust you know what you will do next?"

"Yes. First I will rid this town of your nuisance, then I will try and find my friends, if they still live."

"Then you will need supplies?" he asked. Sparrow had not considered it, he had lost his bag from the accident. The hero nodded, knowing certain items would be useful for a trek across Albion. "Wait here then."

Brollin left the table and went into another room. Being by himself allowed Sparrow to think about what he was told. There was no more doubt in his mind, no more questioning what he would do. He would find Jack and destroy him. He would do it for his friends, to avenge the people who have already died, and protect the innocents of Albion.

"Your in luck," Brollin said, reappearing and dropping a bag on the table, "I was able to find some bullets, bandages, food, even a bottle of my cider."

"Thanks," Sparrow said, reaching into his gold pouch to compensate. Before he could remove anything, Brollin had his wrist, stopping him.

"No need for that, you payed more then enough already with that cultist's gold." Sparrow showed shock again, but it didn't last long as he figured it was obvious at this point.

The sun was beginning to set, Sparrow knew he would have to leave soon.

"Goodbye Brollin, I hope this battle will end for you soon enough."

"Make those cultists pay Sparrow, for everyone in Skyreach who died at their hands," the old man's eyes were cold as he spoke, Sparrow could see how much he wanted to do something himself.

"I will, don't worry about that," he began to leave but paused. "You... understand whats going on well, can you tell Elizabeth what she needs to know?"

Brollin nodded, and Sparrow did the same. The hero left the house and made his way back to Skyreach.

Upon entering the town, he searched for a familiar face. Though it didn't take long, his first choice of the local bar had been correct. Walter was sitting at the counter, drinking away from his family mug.

"I need your help Beck," Sparrow said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Ah! Sparrow, what can a humble fool do for ya?" he asked.

"Do you know where the tower is?"

"The Tower of the Heavens? Yeah I remember where it is, it's closed down though, abandoned."

"Something tells me it isn't as abandoned as people think." Walter gave him a curious look, trying to read the hero's mind.

"Well I suppose I can take ya there. When?"

"Now," Sparrow replied, grabbing his arm and leading him out the door.

They went through the town, keeping out of sight of the patrolling cultists. Though Sparrow doubted they were wise to his previous attack, he wanted to go unnoticed.

Beck knew the town well, having been it's sheriff, it didn't take long for them to locate the tower. The architecture was breathtaking. Beautifully made. The base was somewhat similar to a manor, the stone blocks used were gilded on the edges and carved smooth. Spiraling pillars connected from the floor to the roof. It looked more fitting to be a place for spiritual worship then learning.

The tower itself was built in the center, it stood high into the air, the sides decorated with stone slabs that were carved with pictures of known stars and heavenly bodies. The rest of the tower was made from a white polished marble stone. At the very top, the tower curved outward and formed a dome. Unlike the rest of the tower, the dome wasn't a stone, not even glass. It was clear crystal, cut into a semi circle.

"Amazing," Sparrow whispered, hardly able to take his eyes away from the structure. Beck just laughed.

"It's nice the first time you see it. After a while it loses it's appeal."

As they got closer to the tower, they saw the front double doors to the building being guarded by two cultists. They crept quietly around them for a sneak attack, the guards didn't last long. Entering the building, Sparrow held of a sense of puzzlement. The inside looked much like the out, walls of the finest stone and decorated with priceless artifacts that Sparrow assumed belonged to the Old Kingdom and the Hero's Guild in it's early years.

Though it was all stunnning, Sparrow thought it was becoming too showy. Different corridors branched in multiple directions, it was hard to belive an observatory would need so many rooms.

"Where should we start?" Sparrow asked in a hushed whisper.

"I wouldn't know, never stepped foot inside, I wasn't one who enjoyed learning things in the sky," he replied with a shrug.

With a sigh, they both ran through the first hallway, stopping to peer into any room they went past for signs of guards. Some rooms appeared to have been made for guests to sleep, fitted with beds and drawers for clothing. Others held tables and equipment that Sparrow recognized as items Garth used in his tower.

Despite it's overwhelming size, not many guards were present. The few they did encounter were quickly dealt with, without alerting any others. For what felt like hours, they searched the many rooms of the building, not finding any signs of their target.

They found themselves in a open courtyard, different plants dotted the area. Most were exotic in origin, Sparrow could only come to the notion that they were used for alchemy, based off of the different tools he had already seen.

In the very center of the courtyard was the base of a white marble tower. Gaining a close look at, Sparrow noticed something. The stone was much older then the building surrounding it.

"They were built at different times?" he asked Walter.

"Yeah," he said, "the building was made after the fall of the Guild, Scholars wanted to give it multiple purposes.

"Well, we've searched everywhere else. Veger has to be inside." Sparrow grabbed the door and they entered.

From the bottom floor of the tower, led a spiraling staircase. As they ran up it, they saw it lead to different floors. Sections with their own circular rooms. Each room was vacant however, only shelves of paper lay scattered around. Scrolls depicting the stars and constellations, notes written on discoveries and queries. Each item was coated in thick amounts of dust, webs of age connected to everything. Like the tower itself was silently crying out for attention. Such a sight would make someone like Garth cry for the wasted knowledge.

While ascending the tower, the feeling of abandonment stayed, not a single sign of life or even a guard could be seen. But as they got closer to the upper floors, they began to show itself. Shelves of papers and instruments were being moved to the sides of the room. Regal furniture and weapon racks took their place.

They neared the very top, the stairs ended at a small room, hardly three times the size of a closet. But there was a door that lead to the full room. Behind it they could hear the clinking of metal. Very carefully, they entered the room, saying in the shadows and lightening their steps.

The main room of the tower was decorated much like the rest of the structure. The walls were lined with more treasures from the past, and like the other rooms of the tower, different sets of equipment were stashed at the far side.

The ceiling looked even more beautiful on the inside. The crystal roof almost illuminated the room. To Sparrow's amazement, the crystal magnified what was looked through it. Showing the sky with clarity and size that a human eye could never hope to accomplish. Added with the other tools, the heavens would become visible to anyone.

More crystal was carved in sections around the walls, acting as windows for views of the ground.

As they crossed the room, the clinking of metal continued, when they came deeper into the room they saw what it was. Their target, Veger was sitting at a table, a pile of gold resting on top. Sacks of different sizes lined the around at his feet. The sound was coming from coins being dropped onto the stack. Veger was quietly muttering to himself, Sparrow assumed he was counting.

Sparrow and Beck crept around the room, reaching behind Veger. Sparrow approched the man. In one swift motion, the hero grabbed him by the hair, jerked his head back, and held his sword against his throat.

"Hello Veger," Sparrow greeted.

"A-Ah, h-hello...uh stranger... I sh-should advise you against any action to me, my guards will certainly do much w-worse upon catching you," Veger said, attempting to give his usual authoritative tone, and failing at it. Sparrow let go of his head and kicked the table away, scattering the gold across the room and allowing him to face Veger.

"Your guards are dead," Sparrow said, watching as Veger's face practically lit up upon seeing the hero.

"Oh! It's you Martin," he said, growing a devious smile that took up most of his face, "or should I call you Sparrow?"

"You know me?" he asked, the surprise of being found out had become old.

"I would think it would have become obvious after this," he motioned around himself, noticing Walter in the process. "Beck? Is that you? Helping the heroes now?"

"Yes," he answered, his own hatred for the man was showing, "you cultists have had your way long enough."

"Hmph," he grunted.

"If you know who I am," Sparrow started, "then you know why we are here."

"You seek our master, Jack of Blades, a god walking among mortals. Even if you find Jack, you won't stop him. Your failures have already proven that."

Sparrow had grown tired of his prattling. The hero took out his pistol and fired. The shot hit it's target, Veger's knee. A sickening crunch came from the bullet tearing through his flesh and bone, his screams followed.

"You hero bastard!" he cried, clutching his bleeding leg.

"Tell me how I can find him!" Sparrow shouted back, brandishing the gun in front of him.

"I-I don't know," he said, Sparrow showed his disbelief and raised his gun up again, "Just hold on! Jack has been spending his time, i-inside his fortress in the Void. But only Zealots who have received his gift are allowed the privilege of entrance. That's all I can tell you."

Sparrow growled in frustration, lifting his gun and firing into Veger's other knee. As he cried out in pain, the hero held the gun up to his head. As he was just about to pull the trigger, Beck's hand grabbed his arm and pulled him away.

"No Sparrow," he said, looking into the hero's eyes, "that's enough."

With a shake of his head, Sparrow cleared his head and nodded. They left Veger to bleed out and walked away. A bellowing laugh coming from behind them caused them to stop. They looked and saw it was Veger, laughing at them.

"You are such a fool! I would be lying if I said we knew where you were. But the death of that cultist was all we needed to know for certain," Sparrow stepped closer to Veger as he continued his banter, "It's a shame you had to involve Brollin. While the master's chosen are searching for you, they will certainly stop at that little home of theirs. He is probably already dead, along with that whore of a daughter he has." With that, Veger burst into a maniacal laughter, the pain in his legs going unnoticed.

In a fit of rage, Sparrow grabbed the man by the shirt. With one turn, he threw him with all his strength. Veger flew across the room, crashing into one of the crystal windows. It shattered on impact, allowing his body to continue it's descent. His laughter had gone in full reverse, his screams echoed through the night sky as he fell. It grew more and more quite, then there was nothing.

"I don't think he was bluffing," Beck said, staring into the hole Sparrow had made.

"I don't either," he replied. Sparrow knew they had to make it to Brollin's house, before anything else did.

They ran as fast as their legs would carry them, leaving the tower behind. The building was still void of life, empty except for the few guards they had already killed. It made Sparrow uneasy, thinking there must have been something else occupying their time.

Making it to the streets, they ran towards the house. As they made it halfway across town, Sparrow realized their speed wouldn't be enough to make it all the way to the house in time. But his thoughts were halted as a horse pulled wagon stopped beside them. Elizabeth stared at them both, her eyes wide with terror.

"Sparrow, Walter!" she shouted, her voice starting to shake. "I was going back home when I saw these monsters coming towards the house, I went to find you. Please we have to go get my father." Sparrow didn't need to be told twice. They both jumped onto the wagon, Walter took the reigns and sped off.

"Don't worry," Sparrow said, trying to reassure her, "nothing bad is going to happen." She tried nodding as her body started to quiver.

They quickly drove across the hills and land separating the house from the rest of Skyreach. Their hearts were racing as they looked around them for any figures in the darkness.

But as they came up to the hill that hid away the house, their fears were realized. From the distance they could see the house, being engulfed in flames.

**A/N: Okay, chapter is done. Hopefully the story is staying interesting. At least updates arent taking a full week anymore so far. **

**So, hope you all have enjoyed this one. Leave a review if you'd like.**


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter: 22**

"No!" Elizabeth shouted as she watched her father's house being swallowed in flames. Sparrow watched as well. The flames weren't from the natural world, they were blue and black. They would almost go unnoticed in the night sky if the crackling of the hungry blaze didn't echo across the field.

Just as the wagon was pulled to a stop in front of the house, Sparrow jumped out and raced into the flames. Surrounding himself in a fire spell to offer little protection against the heat.

The inside of the house was utterly destroyed, what items that weren't already turning to ash were thrown across the rooms. Signs of a struggle were obvious. Household objects weren't the only things laying on the floor, the bodies of a few cultists were sprawled onto the ground. Large puddles of blood surrounded them, their wounds bled dry.

Sparrow searched around for any signs of Brollin, coming to a stop further into the house. There he was, Brollin laying out on the floor. The hero checked his pulse, nothing. Taking a moment, Sparrow bowed his head and paused in respect. He noticed the blood stained blade in the old man's hand, feeling impressed for retired sheriff.

The crashing of a portion of the roof brought Sparrow back to where he was. The building was coming down and he knew it wouldn't give him a second warning. Running as fast as he could, Sparrow made it out of the burning house.

"Go!" he shouted to Walter as he jumped back onto the wagon. Beck acknowledged and swung the reigns down on the beasts. They neighed in protest but obeyed, not wanting to stay outside a burning house any longer, running off at full speed.

"Did you find him?" Elizabeth asked over the roar of the wagon striking the rocky road, "Was my father in there?" Necessity in her eyes showed her hope toward a no. But Sparrow didn't answer, he couldn't even look at her, unable to bear her reaction. His silence was all all the answer she needed though. The truth crashed into her as a wave of despair. "No..." She buried her face against Sparrow, sobbing into his coat.

Sparrow could only try and comfort her. It didn't take long for her cries to soften however. Figuring out a way to help her, he told her about the things he saw in the house. How her father had fought off the cultists, killing several in the process.

"He held them off like a champion. His actions probably even kept them busy long enough for us to get away, saving us. You should be proud of him," he said, waiting for her reaction. It looked as though it had helped. Her sobbing had stopped, only slight sniffling came from her, along with a light drizzle of tears.

"Yeah..." Elizabeth said, wiping her eyes.

They didn't know how long they had been traveling. Time had been phased out of their perception. Beck held his command over the horses like a master. Sparrow sat up against the side of the wagon's back, trying to find rest in a night of adrenaline fueled conflicts. Elizabeth was resting against the hero next to her, unable to sleep, her mind traveled through the darkness in an attempt to find any form of light.

A sharp pain cut itself into Sparrow's arm, fully alerting his senses. Clutching at his arm, he felt wet blood starting to soak his fingers. He got up and looked around, he saw a group of creatures chasing after them At first glance he thought a bold pack of Balverines were attempting a raid, but the moonlight started showing more. It was a group of Minions, bounding after them on all fours, gaining speed every second. The glow from the weapons strapped on their back started to show as they got closer.

But it was impossible for them to have wounded him from that range. The surprises continued however, more figures appeared behind them, alongside the bipedal beasts. Zealots began coming into view, pursuing them with almost the same speed as the Minions. Their unnatural muscle gave excessive bulk to their frames, the exhibited speed defied any logic behind it. They had their guns drawn an aimed at them. Another shot was fired, destroying a portion of the wagon's edge.

"Get down!" he shouted to Elizabeth, she did as she was told and laid down, hidden from any wild shots. "Beck," he called to Walter, "can't you go any faster?" Walter just grunted in annoyance.

"Think you can do better? Horses are tired as it is, and this crate wasn't exactly made for its maneuverability!"

"Just try!" Beck gave a firm nod and brought the reigns down harder, the horses picked up speed and charged forward. Their trackers were still on their tail though, keeping a good pace behind them. Sparrow stood up and faced his enemies, shifting his weight in an attempt to not fall off of the moving wagon as it's wooden wheels spun across the uneven roads. While his heroic prowess were impressive, it did nothing to improve his sense of balance.

Either way Sparrow stood before them, the Zealots began firing at him while the Minions kept running closer to attack the wagon head on. The hero held out his arms, his Will lines began glowing, bringing light to the dark roads. From his hands, two spells grew. The first was a ball of fire, crashing into the closest Minion, forcing it to tumble out of control and disappear in the shadows. The second launched a small army of ethereal blades, each staying near their creator until a mark was found. A few Zealots were taken out as the swords plunged into their chests, throwing them off the trail.

Still they came after them, more enemies took the place of the ones Sparrow stopped. Summoning one more spell, the air started to turn around them. A vortex spun into the foes chasing them, the high winds threw them off their feet, lifting them through the air and throwing their bodies like rag dolls. Sparrow himself almost lost his footing, falling back down to the floor as the spell almost knocked him off.

There was no sign of any more Zealots or Minions following them, but he knew his last spell wouldn't stop them, only slow down their progress. After a few minutes of running Sparrow yelled for Beck to stop. As the wagon came to a halt, the horses took the moment of rest graciously, their nostrils vibrating rapidly from large intakes of air. Sparrow jumped from his spot and approached his friend.

"You two get away from here, we will split up. I'll head out and try to lead them away," he said. Not allowing Beck to argue or agree, the hero turned and began walking away. Before getting very far, Elizabeth jumped from her placed and grabbed his arm.

"No Sparrow," she scolded, "you can't just go." He looked into her eyes, momentarily being lost in the vast ocean contained within them.

"I am the one they want, they will leave you alone to chase me. Allowing you to escape." While the hero was sure he could take them, he wasn't willing to risk Beck's or Elizabeth's lives in the process.

Just as he spoke, wall of flames ignited before them. The barrier of fire separated them from Walter and the wagon.

"Damn it!" Sparrow spat, being forced to step back from the intense heat, "Beck, run!" He heard nothing at first, the only sound was the cracks and pops of the moving wall.

"Fine, be careful!" Walter shouted over the noise, the sound of the wagon speeding away and fading followed.

A snarl came from behind them, when they turned they saw another Minion standing before them. But it wasn't like the ones Sparrow usually fought. The copper red markings on it's armor were gone, replaced by a sky blue tinge. They held no weapon, just a twisted staff with similar blue stripes winding down the shaft.

It snarled again, showing the razor sharp teeth in it's stone helm. Raising it's hands, they began to glow into white orbs. A spell shot from it's palms and slammed into Sparrow, the force nearly knocking him off his feet.

Sparrow retaliated with a swing of his blade, cutting through the Minion's staff and bringing the blade onto it's helm. Blood seeped out of the cracked stone as the Minion collapsed to the ground. Just as the creature died, more enemies appeared, all charging at the hero, ready to attack.

Deflecting their blows, Sparrow countered and cut down his attackers. Sparrow dove into a group of Zealots, slicing into them before they could even attempt an attack. A few Minions swung at him but the hero saw the attack. Dodging it, he used his pistol and fired into them. Putting enough power into each shot, the bullets shattered the Minions into pieces, scattering their rubble remains across the field.

While Sparrow was busy fighting their comrades, two Zealots were sneaking away. Figuring out they wouldn't stop the hero by going after him first, they went after the easier target. Elizabeth had been hiding behind the hero, staying out of the way as not to get hurt, but she was being targeted now. The two Zealots jumped her, a scream escaped her lips as they brought their black blades down. Their swords tore into flesh and tasted blood.

Elizabeth was laying on the ground. Her body trembling from the attack. She looked up, seeing the Zealots with a look of shock and terror written on their faces. Surprisingly, she felt no pain, no indication to their attack. Then she saw him, Sparrow standing in the exact same spot she was seconds ago. Two gashes going down his back and to his side, a stream of red running down his body.

His breath was heavy, his eyes as sharp as his blade. Just staring at the Zealots gave them unbelievable fear, they wanted to run but their legs wouldn't allow it.

"Cowards," Sparrow snarled, his voice representing the rage he was holding, "you avoid your enemy and attack a defenseless woman. I can see what you freaks are, weak fools who hide in the dark. No different then your master." The hero took his blade and pierced it into the chest of the first Zealot. The cultist gagged as the metal cut into his lungs. Sparrow twisted the blade and dragged it upwards, slicing through the rest of his torso. The second Zealot watched his fellow cultist die, the brewing fear inside of him came out in a fit of panic and terror. Finally finding the ability, the Zealot ran, using the same speed to get away from the hero as he did to catch him.

Not allowing him to get far, Sparrow threw a blades spell towards him. An orange blade pierced into the Zealot's thigh, disabling his leg and sending him to the ground. When the spell finished it's timed detonation, the Zealot screamed in agony as his leg was blow to bits. Fear still driving him, the cultist tried crawling away, digging his hands into the dirt with all his strength.

Sparrow strolled over to the helpless cultist. He could only look in disgust at the sight. The hero stomped on the Zealot's back, preventing him from moving any further. He rose his sword up and brought it down into the back of the Zealot's skull.

"Are you all right?" he asked, turning to Elizabeth. She was astonished at his sudden change in voice, from a raging tone to a compassionate one.

"Y-yeah," she answered, still shaken from the experience.

"Okay then, we need to move. I'm sure more will come looking for us." Sparrow held out his hand to her. Though she didn't understand, she took it.

Almost immediately, a weightless sensation dawned on her. A light purplish glow surrounded them both. Elizabeth felt as though she was swimming in air. Before she could fully contemplate what was happening, Sparrow pulled her arm and began running. The world around her became a blur, natural colors of the land and sky mixed together. Wind swept through her hair, and against her ears, causing a soothing ring to chime out.

Elizabeth didn't know how much time they spent running, but as they stopped she could see the sky was still dark with no sign of an impending sunrise. Feeling drained, Sparrow had to stop. Multiple fights throughout the night, added with the sprint, he was lucky to be standing. While his abilities in Will were extraordinary, the speed spell took a lot of energy. Added with the extra strength of bringing a companion, and how long they had used it, it took it's toll even on him.

They found a small clearing that was hidden away from glancing eyes. Though he was certain they wouldn't be found easily, he didn't want to take chances. Sparrow built a small fire for heat and light, they both sat before it and gazed into it's ever moving form.

"I suppose I should thank you," Elizabeth said, a small smile appearing on her lips, "you've saved my life twice already." Sparrow gave a light chuckle at the idea.

"Don't forget, _you _saved _my _life. As far as I'm concerned, all debts are paid." Sparrow shifted in his spot slightly, the motion forced the pain of his still open wounds to cut into his nerves. The pain made it's way as an involuntary heavy inhale of air, forming the sound of a backwards hiss. Elizabeth noticed and gave him a look of concern.

"Let me see," she said, coming over to his back. She gasped at the cuts across his back. Two deep slices that started near his shoulder and curved downward to his side. Light traces of blood still oozed from the openings and stained his coat. "This doesn't look very good, we need to get some bandages on it."

"No no," Sparrow argued, "I'm fine, you don't need to do anything." While the wounds did hurt, Sparrow was used to them. His time as a hero introduced him to all sorts of injuries. Being alone during most of them, he realized ignoring the pain until it healed was an option. But Elizabeth wouldn't hear it, she gave him a hard slap on the back. The touch shot a large amount of pain into his spine, causing him to arch his back and grunt loudly.

"All right, all right," he submitted.

"Good, now take off your coat and shirt." The hero obeyed, not wanting to incur any more abuse from her. Elizabeth searched his bag, finding the bandages and getting to work. A small vial was also found in with the supplies, she recognized it as a disinfectant doctors used to treat open wounds from infections. She dabbed a small amount on a wad of bandages and wiped it across his back. The medicine produce a sizzle as it burned away the filth.

"Ah!" Sparrow yelled, bending his back again. "What is that?"

"It's to clean your wounds," she said, giving a slight giggle at his overreaction.

"Well it feels like acid."

"Oh, act like a hero and not a baby." It surprised her how different Sparrow became in his situations. In combat, he steeled his body and mind, able to massacre his enemies without remorse. But after the dust is settled, he is a kindhearted man who wouldn't hesitate to protect innocent people.

After the medicine had done it's magic, Elizabeth began wrapping his wounds. Sparrow felt a tingling sensation chill into his spine as her soft hands rubbed against his flesh.

Soon Elizabeth was finished, she admired her work and went back to her original seat. Sparrow twisted to the side slightly, a flinch of pain came into his face but that was all.

"Heh, feeling better already," he commented.

Sparrow began searching through his supply bag, trying to see what exactly he had. Brollin had surprised him, all of the items were something a hero would need in a journey, his insight was astonishing. Even a thread a needle was found, something he could use to repair the cuts in his clothing.

The hero also found a bottle of cider. He held the bottle as it's contents shifted back and forth. Sparrow could feel a sense of sadness as he looked at it, a grim reminder that Brollin was dead. With it's maker gone, it was one of, if not the only bottle left.

"Here," Sparrow said, handing the bottle to Elizabeth. As she looked at it, the same look of sadness glazed over her eyes. Her eyes started glistening as she fought back tears. Wiping away the moisture, she uncorked the bottle and took a gulp from it.

"To my father," she said in a depressed tone, lifting the bottle up in a toast.

"To a good man," Sparrow added.

As Elizabeth consumed the bottle, Sparrow began mending his torn coat. Adding to the already existent repairs that crisscrossed the fabric, each stitching a memory of past injuries. The one that caught the most attention was on the back, near the right side. A simple cut, the size was large enough to be created by a swords stab. He remembered it's creator, a cutlass wielded by a masked demon. It was where it started, the stitches only increasing since.

"You know," Elizabeth started, emptying the bottle and throwing it away, "this isn't the first time I've lost someone to those monsters." Her voice seemed distant, her eyes fixed on the flames, but not truly seeing it. "You've heard a small bit about it, I think you should know everything."

Sparrow could remember hearing small pieces of her past. All he knew was that she didn't always live in Skyreach, and she lost someone close to her.

"It started in a small village called Raylinn, I lived there with my husband. We had been living there for a few years, and couldn't wait to start a family." Her eyes remained distant, fogged by the painful memories she was speaking of. "I became pregnant and we were both overjoyed. But months later... _they_ came. Soldiers in black and red marched into the town, they didn't even demand submission like they did with Skyreach, they just started killing everyone they saw. When they came to our home, my husband tried protecting us, and... he was killed. But I was able to get away, me and some friends escaped the town. We were making a long journey to a village called Grayshire. Along the way I gave birth to a baby boy, but before long, we were attacked again. We were split and separated from each other. Having no choice, I went to Skyreach to see my father and to wait and hope to be able to return to my friends and son. Weeks later we found you, unconscious in the fields."

Sparrow was surprised to hear she used to be pregnant. Though upon further thought, it explained her body shape. Being pregnant filled her out in all the better places.

Elizabeth lowered her head on her knees, her shoulders trembled as she cried. Sparrow moved closer to her and placed a hand on hers.

"That's something we have in common," he said, the comment caused her to stop and look up at him. "I lost my friends to them, and my wife. At first I lost the will to continue fighting as well. But because of people like you and your father, I know I will find the leader of that cult and end it all no matter what." Elizabeth showed a small hint of a smile, and Sparrow returned it.

The night had been long and much had happened. Elizabeth rested her head against the hero's shoulder and closed her eyes, her breathing slowed to a steady pace as sleep took control. Sparrow followed suit his exhausted body ready to collapse into itself. Before his eyes could fully shut, his conscious mind already slipped and went blank.

**A/N: Ok, new chapter, hurray. **

**Kind of debated with myself a bit about the length I would put into this one. But I decided to leave the last bit as the beginning of the next one, I think it'll be better.**

**Since I haven't done it in a while (like 14 chapters...) I want to thank everyone. All the people who have reviewed, alerted, favorite-ed, or just liked this story so far, I once again tip my imaginary hat to all of you.**

**And because I highly doubt that I'll update in time, I wish everyone a Merry Easter. Or to everyone else, a Happy Sunday.**


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter: 23**

A roaring blast woke Sparrow and Elizabeth. Both being slightly disoriented from their surroundings. The sky was still dark, but not because of nightfall, rain had started to fall and black clouds blanketed the sun away. Again the booming noise sounded, following a flash streaking across the sky.

Unable to explain it, Sparrow felt uneasy about the rain shower. Something about it was off, as though it wasn't natural weather. Regardless of the hero's feeling on the storm, they trudged onward. The water came down lightly, and the wind only gave a small push.

"So, what _has_ been going on with you and the world?" Elizabeth asked, hugging Sparrow's coat tighter around her. He had given his coat and hat for her to wear against the rain, she was happy to have its extra warmth.

Sparrow didn't say anything at first, just keeping his eyes forward on the path they took. The sudden question had caught him somewhat off guard.

"If it's too much to talk about, you don't have to," she quickly added, worried that it might be a touchy subject for him.

"No no," he replied, "it's all right. You wouldn't be the first to ask." After all, her father had died at the hands of those monsters, she had a right to know.

So Sparrow told her. Explaining what he knew about Jack of Blades, the demon from the Void. How his existence has been seen throughout history. Jack's hatred of heroes and why. And the cults help in it all. He even explained the others in the Court, and the Knight's defeat. Of course, some details were left out. Not telling of Alex or James' fates, only saying their attack was just Jack going against the hero out of spite.

What was harder for the hero to talk about was his own story in it all. Telling Elizabeth about who James and Alex were to him. How he had failed to protect them against Jack, even failing to help his heroic companions and their current status being a mystery to him.

"The hardest part of it all," he continued, the rain hiding the sadness written on his face but his tone showed it to Elizabeth clearly, "is whenever I try to fool myself into thinking how everything will return to normal. My mind wants reach out and grasp the concept of returning home, to a loving embrace." Sparrow looked aimlessly at his hand, slowly clenching his fist. "But I only grab air, a cold nothing that just brings more pain."

"I'm sorry," Elizabeth said, trying to show sympathy to the hero. Sparrow shook his head.

"Don't be, I've been able to accept what has happened. All I can do now is make sure no one else dies, like your father and husband... or like Alex and James." Elizabeth wrapped her arms around Sparrow's side, looking up at him and giving a smile.

"Well, I have faith in you. Even if Skyreach doesn't, I'll always be glad to have you as Albion's protector." The comment made Sparrow smile as well. It surprised him how much of an effect she has had on him. But he soon gave his head a heavy shake as other thoughts started to enter his mind, thoughts about her he knew he shouldn't have.

As they crossed the fields, they saw they were approaching a large mountain range. Previously being hidden in the storm. The mountains stretched high into the air, its peak disappearing into the sky. Sparrow wanted to avoid it, to change direction and continue their trek. But something was willing him to push onward. Like a whisper in his ear that was beckoning him forward. Almost involuntarily, his legs moved straight.

Sparrow brushed the sensation away, but went forward anyway.

It felt like hours since they started climbing the mountain. But no matter how long they spent moving up, the top was nowhere in sight. The storm had become more severe. They became drenched as the rain increased in quantity and veracity. The winds became more violent, trying to blow the two intruders off the mountain.

It became apparent that it would become impossible to traverse the mountain while the storm went on. They were able to find a large cave that provided perfect shelter.

Thunder continued to roar across the sky, echoing into the walls of the cave. Sparrow and Elizabeth sat in front of a warm fire, drying off their damp clothing. They didn't say anything, all their words were already spared on the trip to the mountain.

Sparrow sat there and eyed his surroundings. The cave was a decent enough size, they were able to set up their space deep enough so the entrance was just a small dot in the background. Nothing gave any indication to the cave being the home to a wild animal, removing the idea of a territorial attack as they slept. Even the army of Minions and Zealots hunting them wouldn't be able to locate their location, besides having split enough distance between them, the storm was at least removing any possibility of them being tracked.

The hero's eyes then drifted onto the woman across from him. Elizabeth was holding her hair out, wringing it out of any moisture in front of the fire. Sparrow couldn't help but notice how the light from the fire caught the droplets of water on her body, causing dim twinkles to appear, glistening around her. Like small stars surrounding her, blinking on and off.

Elizabeth's gaze had noticed his own. Before he could blink away she had caught him, giving a small laugh and blush. The heat that flowed into Sparrow's cheeks was almost as warm as one of his flame spells and though he couldn't see it, he knew the color matched it.

Before anything else could happen, Sparrow stood up and without a word, walked to the front of the cave.

Sparrow held his head just outside the cave, allowing the cold water to drench his skull. It was a vain attempt to clear his head, shaking his hair to relieve it of some of the rain, he sat down just inside the cave. The storm raged on, challenging him to go against it. Sparrow removed his shirt and cut away the bandages around his chest, allowing his injured flesh a chance to breath fresh air. His wounds were still raw but the blood had stopped flowing and the pain had dropped considerably.

Avo's Tear rested on Sparrow's lap, it's harmonic tune chimed out at his touch. Just holding it took away some of the uneasiness he felt.

A rock was laying on the cave floor near him. Picking it up, the hero ran it across the swords length, a trail of sparks following behind. Sparrow knew trying to sharpen it was pointless, the blade was still as sharp as the day it was given to him. He doubted that it had ever dulled since its creation. But the simple act brought more clarity to his mind then the holy relic ever could.

The sound of rock grinding across metal dominated his senses. Drowning out the blasts of the storm in front of him, and crackling flames behind him that led to a place he couldn't handle being near so soon.

A few minutes passed and Sparrow slowed his motion, prolonging the screeching sound of stone on metal. He continued slowing the motion, the noise became softer as a result.

Then Sparrow felt a pair of smooth hands on his shoulders. Becoming surprised by the sudden touch but already knowing who it was. Having not heard Elizabeth's approach, he quickly figured that her feet must have been bare.

Her hands draped across his shoulders and down to his chest, feeling every muscle they passed over. Sparrow didn't provoke the action but did nothing to stop it. His gaze stayed fixated on the blade in his grasp, the stream of sparks growing less and less. Elizabeth moved her hand to his arm, fully stopping the motion of the rock. She rested her chin on his shoulder, the sudden wave of her natural smell caused the hero to lose his grip, the stone rolled away and out of the cave.

With his hand still in her grasp, Elizabeth lifted the hero up off the ground. She pulled at his hand, trying to pull him back to their camp. Every fiber of Sparrow's mind told him against it, but it wasn't his head the hero was listening to, he obeyed.

Elizabeth led them back into the cave and Sparrow blindly followed, his eyes empty of any sight. Sparrow lazily gripped his sword, dragging it across the stone floor. Halfway through the cave Sparrow dropped it, abandoning the weapon without a second thought.

It was not until they felt the warmth of the fire, did they stop. Elizabeth let go of his hand, turning to face him. Then Sparrow looked at her for first time, realizing her feet weren't the only parts of her that were bare.

Again her arms draped across his shoulders. Doing so, she slowly folded her arms, bringing Sparrow's face closer to hers. They were just a breath apart, but she kept pulling him closer, until their lips met.

Momentarily, Sparrow became fully disoriented, his mind being erased to a blank slate. When he came to, he again felt the soft touch of her lips against his. An eternity was spent between the two, their embrace growing more and more passionate with each passing second.

When they finally separated, it was clear to Sparrow that it wasn't over. It only took a few moments and Sparrow was stripped of the rest of his garments. He was motioned down onto his back, Elizabeth followed. Small pinches of pain shot into his still injured back as it felt the hard rock, but Sparrow ignored it, his mind too focused on the woman next to him. They embraced each other once again as they laid on the cave floor.

Light moans of pleasure soon accompanied and mixed with the natural sounds around them, forming a chorus of euphoria.

Was it love? Sparrow didn't know. But he didn't care, neither of them did. It was something they both needed, to have someone to hold next to the other. Having experienced the crippling pains of the heart, they needed someone to numb that pain, if only for a short time. And they had found each other.

* * *

Sparrow looked outside the cave, having just woken up, the storm had stopped. The sun was shining and the scenery was beautiful. But the hero hardly noticed it. An aching feeling was left in his chest. Sparrow looked back into the cave, Elizabeth's sleeping form could be seen, her body rising and falling with each peaceful breath, Sparrow's coat placed over her as a cover.

The day before had held many events. A feeling of longing was still within the hero, but it also made him feel sick.

Alex was still his wife, she was still his love. How could he justify his actions against her like that, under control of the Court or not, she still had a place in his heart.

As Sparrow lamented, the old beckoning feeling returned to him. Taking a few steps outside, the hero was astonished at what he saw, the mountain's summit. Having been blinded by the previous storm, the top of the mountain couldn't have been seen. Now he could see how close they were.

Still Sparrow felt a pull on him, to push forward toward the top. Invisible arms had their hold on him and wouldn't allow him to escape. Retrieving his sword, Sparrow took one last look at the cave and it's sole occupant. He knew she would be safer there.

Sparrow climbed the remaining distance that led to the top. As he neared the peak, each step became more and more heavy. The sky above him was turning from a blissful blue, to a lifeless gray. All of the colors that formed the scenery dulled. Even his own Will lines seemed to lose their sleek and shine.

The hero made it to the top. It was just a barren nothingness. All that could be seen was a flat clearing that stretched a far distance in an almost circular formation. Surrounding it were jagged rocky walls, only a few gaps existed between them, showing the breathtaking views of Albion, it made the area feel like a pit of battle.

But the main detail of the place was somthing Sparrow couldn't see, it was something he felt. A powerful energy emanated from the very rock, seeping through every piece of earth that made up the mountain top. Sparrow knew it was a sacred place, but he didn't know why. Nothing looked familiar to him, nothing could be placed with the experience of his ancestors.

A woman's laughter echoed around him, it was a taunting sound that heated the hero's blood.

"It is about time you find your way back here."

Sparrow looked to the far end of the peak, a black rift had opened and walking from the opening was a woman dressed in black and red. The Queen of Blades.

"Do you remember this place?" she asked, waving a hand to the scenery. Sparrow didn't say anything, he already knew the answer, he was sure she did too. "No? What a shame. But it is understandable. While your blood may be able to give you brief glimpses of your ancestors' pasts, this particular past has had its own share of bloodshed. Your blood never kept your ancestor's life after he obtained that cursed blade."

The Queen stepped closer to Sparrow, her eyes moving up and down on him.

"Mount Ruon," the Queen said, she spoke the words with a heavy bitterness. "This is the place where the Court ended, and the Old Kingdom began. The world has changed much since then, I almost miss it." She gave a slight giggle to her own nostalgia. "You remind me so much of Black, that fiery passion in his eyes, that powerful stature."

"Why bring me here?" Sparrow demanded, just standing near her, he could feel the same sensation when the unknown force tried dragging him across the mountain.

"Why?" she echoed, "Why else? What better place for your blood line to end? I won't allow you to sully my world anymore, you already destroyed the Knight. And Jack is useless, he always has been against your kind."

The Queen stood right next to Sparrow, her mask still giving him that flirtatious smile. She ran her hands across his shirt, stopping to feel his arms, lightly chuckling to herself. Sparrow gave a look of disgust before smacking her hands away. The Queen's eyes locked on his, he could feel a smile being directed at him from behind the white mask.

"But I do have my doubts on what kind of battle you can offer. After all, attacking me would hurt your precious love, Alex." Sparrow's eyes intensified, but the tension soon drained and returned to normal. Sparrow showed a smirk.

"It's true... I would never hurt Alex." Sparrow unsheathed his sword and pointed it at the Queen before him. "But you aren't my wife! Her life is gone, stolen by you monsters! I'm now here to set her free, and retrieve a corpse." The Queen just laughed at him.

"Alright then hero, say goodbye to this world. After your gone, it will be forever changed." The Queen held out her arm. A black smoke swirled around her it, the smoke clouded around her hand and took shape. Much like the Knight when he summoned his weapon. But rather then a sword, it was forming a staff. It was a scepter, the decorated pole looked fitting in the hands of royalty. But it wasn't just a scepter. From the top, a blade formed from it. Like a large gilded ax head.

Sparrow shifted his legs into a fighting stance. The Queen spun her weapon in the air and charged at the hero. The attack was an amateur move, Sparrow saw it and prepared to counter. He dodged the swing that was coming and brought his blade through the Queen. But his blade hit nothing, as soon as it touched her, the blade went through her and the Queen vanished.

The hero looked around him, trying to find her. But a cut was made across his back, knocking Sparrow over. He turned and saw the Queen was behind him. She swung at him again, but Sparrow was able to dodge. Retrieving his pistol, Sparrow fired at her. Each shot passed through her harmlessly, and again the Queen's image faded.

Sparrow focused his senses around him, trying to anticipate her move. He caught on and swung his blade outward. It clanged against another source of metal and he saw the Queen appear with her own blade against his.

"Yes!" she called in excitement. "Exactly like that, prove your bloods power!" Sparrow was becoming annoyed by her remarks. He grabbed at her scepter and pulled the Queen closer to him. As she was pulled into him, he raised his feet up and planted a kick into her chest.

The Queen was tossed into the air and landed a distance away, she growled in anger and brought her hands into the air.

All around him, the rocky walls started to crack and shatter. The stones filled the air around and above him. Each chunk of rock shook with power and burst into a black flame. The flaming boulders flew at the hero, Sparrow had only a second to try and dodge them all. Large craters were forming on the ground around them as Sparrow jumped away from the falling stones.

The last of the boulders spun in the air together. Their speed increased and their forms merged into one massive rock of flames. Sparrow tried running but it was no use, as it crashed down, the impact threw him to the ground.

The Queen was already upon him, her scepter stabbed down on him. Sparrow rolled away as the blade pierced the rock he was just laying on. He stood up and charged at her.

They continued to fight, their own speed increased with each strike. Everything else blurred as all their focus was put into the other. As their blows connected, the impacts cracked the rock around them.

A wild swing by the Queen was easily dodged by Sparrow, but it became obvious that the scepter wasn't what she was attacking him with. As the weapon swung by him, an invisible force that had been building was let loose. It crashed into Sparrow and threw him against one of the few remaining stone walls. His body slumped from the wall and he fell to his hands and knees.

Sparrow slowly stood, his breaths becoming more and more heavy and forced, feeling as though his chest had been crushed in the attack. He could feel his hold on his blade loosening, in response he gripped tighter. The hero looked at his opponent. Marks of their conflict showed on her like they did with him. Her dress had tears all around it, even her crown had been split in two allowing her black hair to freely flow about her.

The Queen was the most powerful being he had ever fought. She was leagues ahead of the Knight, even Jack's power paled in comparison. But he wouldn't stop, he couldn't.

Sparrow could remember the old Will spell Garth had used on him. The spell had given him a massive spike of strength and speed. He thought on how it would effect him with his current power. It was all he could think of doing.

Summoning all of what was left of his energy, Sparrow spent it all on the spell. The power caused his muscles to bulge. His veins pulsed new blood throughout his body. It was all or nothing, a go for broke attempt that meant his failure would be the end of the battle, and the end of Albion.

Sparrow yelled in defiance at the demon before him. The hero charged at her full force. The Queen could see it, the power of the Archon being brought out in the form of a simple hero. She became ready for the attack and ran at him herself, ready to finish it.

Sparrow could see the Queen was ready for him. He knew a direct attack at her would be blocked and countered, ending him. But as they neared each other, Sparrow hesitated, the Queen saw it and took advantage of it, swinging her blade into the hero.

Their crash echoed across the mountain, creating a shock wave that cleared the field of any debris.

The Queen's eyes widened in shock as she stared at her weapon, or what was left of it. Wooden splinters coated the rocky ground around her, only small broken chunk was left in her hands. Sparrow stood before her, his stance gave subtle signs of weakness but he held his ground. The scepters bladed head was lodged in his chest, though a nasty looking wound, it wasn't fatal.

Then the Queen saw what went wrong, the hero's hesitation wasn't a flaw in fighting technique, it was intentional. He wanted her to see it, to counter against it and leave her weapon wide open to be shattered, leaving her all the more defenseless.

Sparrow lifted his sword and made one last strike. Then, it was all over.

**A/N: Well dayumn! Another update and another chapter. I actually liked the progress I made with this. I experimented a bit and listened to music every time I worked on it. Most of the music being fan made songs of various concepts, it's like fanfiction... but with music. Seems like a natural combination. And it worked well, though the time that has passed between updates shows against it, I completed this chapter rather quickly. Just took a bit of a break after the last update to enjoy the "holiday".**

**And yes I tried my hand in a bit of fluff for this chapter. While I don't think I did horrendously terrible with it (If I had I wouldn't have even posted it) I have my doubts that I did all that well. But I suppose that's up to the people who read it to decide.**

**But it was a pivotal event to the story I tellz ya PIVOTAL! Yeah that's BS too, I know for a fact I could have gone in so many different directions with this. Ah well too late now it has been posted muwa hahaha!... well after I get done typing out this AN, and edit, and re-edit...**

**Then I still need to preform my pre-posting ritual. Something to give me good luck in hoping people enjoy the current updates. I usually do it by sacrificing a hockey mask and a caged Sparrow. Either that or a copy of a Pirates of the Caribbean movie... because like the main character's name is Jack... Sparrow... (hardy har har...) Terrible joke, I know.**

**Anyway (_really_ long AN rant...) hope everyone is still enjoying the story, more is soon to come.**


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter: 24**

Sparrow fell to his knees, his strength drained from his body. Before him stood the Queen, looking down at the sword that was pierced through her chest.

The hero could see the life draining from the Queen's eyes

"I...I guess Jack was right..." she said through ever slowing breaths. "You can be easily... underestimated."

"It's over, the Court has failed again." Though his body was exhausted, Sparrow's voice was as hardened as ever, showing his control. To his surprise, the Queen laughed at him, much like the Knight did before he died.

"Don't act so proud... hero. You've unknowingly doomed the mortals of this world. Under our rule... they would have been under our control, but they would have lived. You...you can not see it now, but our fall shall herald the obliteration of these lands. You spared them the fate of dominance, but you have damned them to a fate far worse then anything we could do!"

Sparrow tried to stand, hardly able to feel his legs, but he fought back his aching body. Immediately on standing, the hero felt the sharp pain of the Queen's weapon still jetting from his chest. He was able to pry it away and drop it on the floor, allowing his blood to flow freely with nothing blocking its path.

The hero approached the dieing Queen and gripped the hilt of his blade.

"Whatever it is you've planned, I'll deal with it, just as I've dealt with you." Sparrow pulled his sword free from the fleshy prison. The blade had seemed to hold onto the Queen's life, once it was removed, her eyes went blank and her body crumpled.

Her mask slid away and fell to the floor beside her body. Sparrow could see the face he knew, the face of his wife.

"Alex," he cried, lifting his wife up to see her. Her black entanglement of hair began to fade, it soon turned back to it's natural blonde shade. Alex's lids fluttered open, showing her glassy eyes.

"Sparrow..." she said, her voice already weak.

"Yes, yes it's me Alex." She met his eyes and smiled.

"Then you... did it. She's gone, you... beat her."

"Alex... I-I'm sorry... I couldn't save you." The hero's wife still showed her smile, her hand reached out and held the side of his face.

"Please Sparrow... don't mourn me. Don't... let Jack win this... Control your anger... use it against him... if there is anything he fears... it's the blood of a hero when angered..."

"I... I will Alex, I will make certain Jack falls like the others."

"Good..." she whispered. As Alex's eyes gazed in his own, he could see the old twinkle he remembered so well from her. She gave a weak laugh to him. "You... you are in love... aren't you?" Sparrow's heart almost stopped after hearing those words.

"Alex, I-" he tried saying, but was cut off. Alex had shifted her finger over his mouth, though she didn't have the strength to actually stop him, Sparrow accepted the gesture.

"Don't... hide it. I can see it in your eyes... she is beautiful, and... I can see the love between you both. Please promise me... you'll love and care for her... just as you always did with me..."

"Yes...I will Alex," Sparrow said, giving a slight nod.

"Thank you. And please, don't forget why you fight... why you must stop Jack. Not for me... but for all of Albion." She didn't have much longer, Sparrow could see her eyes struggling to stay awake. He could feel her pulse weakening.

"I'll always love you Alex," Sparrow said, his voice starting to choke.

"As will I Sparrow... as will I..." Alex's voice trailed away. Sparrow leaned down and gave his wife one last kiss, her breathing had stopped and her heart's beating was gone.

Sparrow knew it was inevitable, he knew it was coming. But it still tore him to pieces on the inside. His tears blurred his vision as they dropped down to the pulsing rock that he sat on.

The hero stood, swallowing the knot that had formed in his throat.

Sparrow looked around the summit, scars of their battle were cut into it's floor. Again his thoughts were broken by a force whispering in his ear. The Queen's mask sat were it had been left. Sparrow picked it up, even without a wearer, the mask still smiled at him. Much like the Knight's, a black rune was scribed on it's forehead, and a beckoning existed within it.

Almost for a moment, Sparrow was tempted to put on the mask, to accept the power it was enticing him with. But his mind snapped itself back to reality at the last moment. He held the mask in his hand and walked over the mountain's edge. The abysmal nothingness opened before him.

Taking one last look at the white mask, a small flame was produced in the hero's hand. The blaze engulfed the mask and ate away at it. Sparrow released his grasp and watched as the mask's flame fell into the emptiness, disappearing from his sight.

Sparrow watched as the dark attire of the Queen evaporated from Alex's body. The black mist rose and vanished into the air.

The hero knelt before her body. His heart was still broken, but he was happy. Sparrow knew what he had saved both her and James from. They could now rest in peace.

A distance away, a black portal appeared from the vacancy of the mountain. Sparrow jumped up and held his blade, the sword felt too heavy for him to fully lift, his body was still weak from the fight. But Sparrow prepared himself anyway, not having any choice in it. But no demon or monster stepped through. Only a man, or what was left of one.

The guardian from the tomb in Brightwood stepped through. His eyes darted around him as he took in his surroundings, the place had an apparent effect on him. The decrepit eyes then fell on the hero, the blank orbs intensified at his sight.

"So you beat the Queen?" he asked. The question wasn't meant for Sparrow to answer, he kept silent. "I suppose that leaves only Jack."

"How did you find me?" Sparrow broke in, though he tried keeping his voice calm, the demanding tone was impossible to keep out.

"How couldn't I? I could feel the power from you both all across Albion. You practically sent a beacon for anyone to see, astonishes me that Jack hasn't came for you yet." Sparrow grunted at the response. "There was no way of finding you Sparrow, without that Seal in your possession, it is quite difficult."

"I'm sorry it was such a big inconvenience for you," the hero hissed back, the dead man's attitude was starting to get under his skin. The guardian let out a sigh.

"Sparrow, you can remain attached to the unchangeable past, or you can remember who your enemy is and finish this fight."

Sparrow felt another presence with them on the summit, he turned to see Elizabeth standing behind them. Holding his coat in her hands, her eyes showing her astonishment to what she saw.

"Sparrow," she called, running to the hero's side, she gasped as she noticed his wounds, " your hurt, are you alright?" He nodded, unable to hide a smirk.

"I'm fine, just... tired I suppose." He took the coat from her and put it on over his wounds. The guardian before them gave a huff to catch their attention.

"You can rest momentarily. We need to make haste to the Sanctuary, I think we are pressing our luck with avoiding an attack at this time, and you are in no state for battle." He held out his arm, a portal opened up in the direction his outstretched hand pointed to. "Meet me there soon, I will leave it open long enough for you to say farewells." The guardian then stepped through the black hole and disappeared. Sparrow turned to Elizabeth.

"I... I'm sorry," he apologized, knowing how he had left her in a cave.

"Don't be," she said, her eyes dropping down to Alex's body. "Is she...?"

"Yes," he nodded, "the Queen of Blades... and my wife." The statement caused her to stare at him, her mouth slowly falling down in surprise. "She was Alex, as the Knight was James."

"But... how?" she asked.

"Jack," he replied, spitting out the name, "he took them from me. He used them as vessels for his ilk, and as weapons against me. Forcing me to have to fight the people I care about." Sparrow knelt down and picked Alex's body up, holding her as delicately as a mother would to a newborn child. "It still hurts, knowing what I've done, but at least I know they are safe now, away from their torment."

"She's beautiful," Elizabeth commented, looking at Alex's peaceful form.

"Yeah... she always was." Sparrow took a glance to the dark portal across from them and turned to Elizabeth. "We need to go." She nodded in agreement and they both walked thorough the shadowy gateway.

* * *

The two appeared inside the Sanctuary, the familiar sights were a welcome to the hero. But to Elizabeth, all the new experiences were almost overwhelming.

In the Sanctuary's center room, the guardian stood to the side, waiting for the hero. Sparrow laid Alex's body were he had with James'. The guardian approached them, his eyes on Elizabeth.

"You brought her here?" he asked. Sparrow's eyes twisted into a fierce glare.

"What? What did you expect me to do, leave her stranded on a mountain?" The guardian gave him a disappointed shake of his head.

"She does not belong here."

"And who are you to say that!" Sparrow demanded, his anger reaching its limit. It looked as though Sparrow would attack the undead man, but a third voice broke in between them.

"You must forgive him Sparrow, Scythe isn't the most comfortable around non-heroes." Sparrow knew the voice, he faced the entrance it came from to see Theresa. He could catch a look of happiness from her.

"Scythe?" he then asked, turning to the robbed man, who gave an obvious sign of displeasure.

"My name, yes," he replied with a sigh. It felt odd to the hero, to have a name to match with such a face, it at least added a small bit of formality between them.

"Sparrow," Theresa continued, "I'm glad to see your still among us. I had thought we lost you in that incident."

"Well, I would have been, if it wasn't for Elizabeth," Sparrow said, shifting his gaze to her.

"Now that would have been a shame wouldn't it," another voice called out, Sparrow knew who it belonged to and dreaded it somewhat. The pirate Reaver stepped into the chamber, giving off his usual smug look. "Oh, and who is this?" Reaver approached Elizabeth, giving an over exaggerated bow. "Hello my dear, the name's Reaver. May I ask yours?"

"Uh... Elizabeth," she answered, hesitant near the strange man. The pirate held her hand, kissing it.

"Beautiful," he responded, flashing a toothy smile.

"It's so good to see you too Reaver," Sparrow said through gritted teeth.

"Oh yes," Reaver replied, being snapped away from his flirting, "though you look more worse for the wear."

A bark then echoed into the chamber. Surprised, he turned to catch his dog bounding toward him. Sparrow gasped, overjoyed to see his furry friend.

"And it's good to see _you_ boy," he said excitedly, kneeling down to scratch him. Sparrow then noticed he had something in his mouth, dropping it in the hero's palm, Sparrow saw it was his Seal. "You found it?" The canine barked happily at his master.

"Stupid mutt wouldn't let anyone else touch it," Reaver muttered, crossing his arms. Sparrow put the Seal back on his belt, having it there filled him with a completed sensation, like he had found a missing piece of himself.

Then Sparrow realized that something was missing about the room. He looked around and realized what it was.

"Where are Hammer and Garth?" he asked, confused that they wouldn't be there.

The room fell silent, everyone had paused as though the world was frozen. It brought worry to the hero.

"They were captured," Theresa said, breaking the silence, "by Jack." The shock was almost too much for the hero. Clenching his fists, he pounded against the map in the chambers center.

"Damn it!" he shouted, his anger spilling out. "Why would he? Would he be able to bring the Court back again?" Scythe shook his head.

"Not possible, their return was a result of Jack already being in possession of their masks. Now that they are gone, it would take years for him to recreate them."

"Then why?"

"Leverage?" Reaver suggested, his tone sounded uncaring. Sparrow didn't understand it. Scythe held his chin in thought.

"Perhaps..." he started, "Jack may be desperate. The Queen was the strongest of the Court, with her defeat he may realize you can defeat him. With your companions in his hands, he will try to threaten their lives to force your compliance."

"Oh, he'll force something," Sparrow said, "my sword through his black heart!" The hero pounded against the map again, his aching body responding with more shots of pain into his nerves. A subtle groan of pain didn't go unnoticed.

"Hold your blade for now hero," Scythe said with a shake of his head, "you are obviously in no condition for a fight." Theresa nodded in agreement, the Seeress then approached the hero.

"Sit Sparrow," she said, motioning to a stool that sat on one end.

The hero did as he was told. While he sat on the stool, Theresa stood behind him, her magical hands traced over the wounds around him. Sparrow could feel his skin healing, the pain dying away and his energy returning.

"Reaver," she said, catching the pirate's attention, "would you take our guest to where she can rest?"

"With pleasure," Reaver answered, a smirk forming on the side of his mouth. "Come come Elizabeth, a wonderful room is ahead, designed by yours truly of course." Elizabeth followed the marksman to the side chamber. Reaver turned to Sparrow for a moment, giving him a sharp wink before disappearing. The hero attempted to stand, but Theresa's hand had caught his shoulder, keeping him down. Sparrow could only give off a glare, hoping it could go through stone.

"Well Sparrow," Theresa said, while healing the hero, "while I am glad your wounds aren't too crippling, I must worry about your inner pain." Sparrow knew what the gypsy meant, he took a glance at Alex's body almost absentmindedly.

"I'm fine," he said after a pause, "Alex is gone... but at least she's safe now." Though Sparrow couldn't see it, Theresa smiled at him.

"Good Sparrow, I'm glad you can accept that. And I am also happy for this girl, she has a good heart, I approve."

"W-what?" Sparrow became belligerent, at a loss for words. The gypsy only smiled and continued her work.

Theresa soon finished healing him. Sparrow got up and stretched, though much of his strength was still missing, now he didn't have to worry about dropping dead at any moment.

Reaver then walked back into the chamber to rejoin them. Sparrow noticed the pirate rubbing his cheek tenderly. The hero chuckled as he saw the thick shade of red it was colored.

"So," Theresa began as everyone looked ready, "we need to discuss what to do about Jack."

"Your the one who comes up with plans," Reaver responded, "why don't you come up with one."

"We may have one," she answered. Scythe stepped forward, his gaze locked on Sparrow.

"It's why I'm here." He pointed to a spot to the northern corner of Albion. "Jack is in hiding inside of his fortress in the Void. Here is were he has built a fortress for his human subjects, right in the center of Tempest Will." Sparrow knew the place well. A dangerous part of Albion made long ago.

Hundreds of years ago, when a Will user in over his head attempted a ritual, it went horribly wrong and decimated the land around it. The small cataclysm left it all in ruin. Mountains were formed by the crater it left. A never ending storm of Will energies rages on, leaving the area void of life and almost impossible for anyone to enter and survive.

"Of course it is," Sparrow muttered, not liking the idea in the slightest.

"To get to the Void," he continued, "you will need to enter the fortress. But being teleported there will be impossible, just as you have a ward on this place, Jack has set up his own protections."

"So just take the front door," Reaver commented, "simple feat to master."

"It will _not_ be that easy," Scythe said, giving an angry look to the pirate, "the area is swarmed by his Zealots and Minions. Even with your power, you will be overwhelmed quickly against their numbers."

"So then what?" Reaver asked, becoming impatient.

"We match those numbers," Theresa answered. Both heroes didn't understand her meaning. "Albion has been divided for too long, so has it's people. If they are to be united against a common enemy, then we may be able to attack the fortress."

"Is _that_ even possible?" Sparrow asked. The idea of bringing together Albion like that seemed too far fetched.

"Anything but an army will fail now. Divided, Albion will be all the easier for Jack to take over. But if brought together, then we have a chance in this war." The hero considered it, but too many flaws existed.

"And just how do we do that? Go from village to village and recruit? Even if it was possible, doing so would take too long, Jack will have Albion by then."

"And that is where Scythe plays his part," she said, turning to the skeletal man.

"I can give you a power that will help you across Albion, far exceeding your transportation with that Seal or this map." He peered further into Sparrow, as if forming a decision in his head. "Though I am reluctant to give it to you."

"What?" he asked, getting angered that he would question trying to save Albion. "I don't care what it is, if it will help us." Scythe heaved a sigh.

"This power is dangerous to hold, it will take a heavy toll on your body without the proper restraint. I didn't want to have it come to this, but since you have failed to defeat Jack already, we have no choice."

"I've failed?" the hero yelled, "What have you been doing besides hiding away from the fight?" The look Scythe's eyes darkened on the hero.

"Fine, but use caution hero, you may bring yourself into an early grave." The hero gave a glaring nod. "Hold out your arm."

Sparrow did so, stretching his arm out to him. Scythe exposed his skin and ran his hands across his forearm as if looking for something. After a moment, his hands glowed black. Sparrow felt a painful burning in his arm, but he endured it. Scythe took his hands away to reveal what he did. A large area of Sparrow's left forearm had been blackened, the flesh felt dead to the hero.

"It is done," Scythe said, eying the mark, "you will be able to summon shadow gates to send you all across Albion. But use it wisely."

"Now," Theresa began, "Reaver, you will be best served by going to Bloodstone. You are the most likely to gain followers there with your ties to them." The pirate gave an accepting nod.

"Alright, I'll go an make their existence all the more merrier. Telling them to run off half-cocked to their deaths. Should ring up appropriate numbers." Reaver then left through the Cullis Gate, not wanting to hear anymore.

"And you Sparrow," Theresa said, turning to the hero, "You will want to start with Bowerstone, the most likely of place for you to find support."

"Fine, but I have to do something else first." Theresa nodded and he turned away toward the chamber at the far side.

Elizabeth was sitting in the chamber. Her mood was one of tension, her posture being on the seat's edge. She noticed Sparrow and gave a slight grin.

"That Reaver has problems." The comment forced a smile on Sparrow.

"Try working with him," he chuckled.

"So what now?" she asked curiously. Sparrow's smile dropped to a saddened frown.

"Now, we go our separate ways." Elizabeth then lost her smile, looking at the hero with sadness.

"Why? Can't I stay here with you?"

"No, it's not safe for you to be around me. Anyway, you have somewhere you need to be." Sparrow held out his arm, keeping his hand opened, he concentrated whatever power Scythe had given him. He focused his thoughts on a destination, a place he had never seen but knew existed. A rift tore itself open in the chamber, it's shadowy opening beckoned to be used. "Grayshire..."

Elizabeth looked to him with shock. She placed her gaze on the portal, slowly walking towards it. She stopped suddenly and turned to Sparrow, tears starting to form in her eyes. She ran up to him and grabbed his midsection in a hug.

"Thank you so much Sparrow." Sparrow chuckled lightly, running a hand through her hair and holding her with the other.

"Remember to stay safe out there." She looked up at him and nodded.

"Goodbye Sparrow."

"For now at least," Sparrow added for her. They shared a short kiss before Elizabeth released the hero and walked to the gate. Sparrow watched as she entered the portal and it closed behind her.

Sparrow returned to the main chamber. Scythe was already gone, Theresa watched him but said nothing, and his canine companion approached his master and quietly followed. The hero held out his arm, summoning another dark portal, he picked up Alex's body and disappeared through it.

**A/N: Alright, chapter is done and done.**

"**Already?"**

**Yeah I know right, surprises me too. Kinda proud of myself. Between my last update on Thursday and today, I was able to finish this chapter and even do some editing on some of the first chapters I did for this fic.**

**And that's where I get depressed... GOD those chapters were so terrible in regards to errors and all that. I could hardly read it. Halfway through most of the chapters I would start screaming "Who the hell is the idiot who wrote this crap!" Then I'd realize it was me...**

**Anyway, hopefully I cleaned it up pretty well. Make it look nicer to new readers to enjoy and read further. **

**Hope everyone is still enjoying it, more is 2 come.**


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter: 25**

Sparrow sat down at the Bowerstone market. He watched as the people went about their daily lives, walking back and forth from place to place. His eyes followed them all intently.

The hero was expected to recruit people for an army. Such a simply stated plan, yet it dawned heavily on him. Sparrow had had a hard enough time recruiting three heroes long ago. The idea of an entire army seemed daunting.

His furry companion whined for his master, placing his paws on his knees and nudging him with his chin. Sparrow chuckled at the dog, he could understand his master's mind better then anyone else could.

All of a sudden, his dog started growling. Sparrow looked to see someone approaching them. The hero was shocked to see it was Beck.

"Walter?" he asked, not believing his eyes. The man gave a large smile to the hero.

"Finally, I find you Sparrow."

"But...how did you get here?" Beck's grin took over his face as he remembered what had happened.

"It was the strangest thing," his voice was starting to get excited, as if he was telling the best story of his life, "I continued to head east after we were separated. I'm not entirely sure how long I was riding, but I eventually blacked out from exhaustion. When I came to, the cart was stopped outside of Bowerstone. I stabled the horses and stayed here figuring I would run into you eventually."

Sparrow couldn't help but smile at the ridiculous story, but he knew not to question it, stranger things have happened to himself.

"So where is Elizabeth?" he asked, looking around thinking he would find her.

"Safe," Sparrow answered. Sparrow updated Beck on what had happened, and their current plan.

"Uniting Albion?" Walter was just as surprised by the idea as Sparrow was. "Balls Sparrow, might as well try and move the sun while your at it."

"I wouldn't be up for it either if I thought there was a better option, but as of now, I see none." Beck heaved an uneasy sigh.

"Well, if you are going through with this, I see no reason not to help," he held out his arm to the hero, "consider me the first recruit." Sparrow showed a smirk and shook the hand.

"Welcome aboard Walter Beck." Sparrow reached into his pockets and retrieved a folded piece of parchment, he undid the paper and flattened it out. It was a map of Albion. Different marks were made across it, each with name under it. "For now, we will head to three different locations." Sparrow tapped three spots on the map. "We will, of course, start with Bowerstone."

"Yes sir!" Beck declared, straitening his posture and saluting. The hero pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. "So where do we start with convincing everyone?" Sparrow thought about it for a moment, no clear idea came to him. But an idea on who to talk to brought itself up.

"We need to head to Old Town."

* * *

"Your planning to do _what_?" asked Derek the Sheriff of Old Town. Having been told Sparrow's plan, he gave the expected reaction.

"Recruit," Sparrow repeated, giving his fullest patience to the skepticism. The old sheriff rubbed the back of his neck.

"Sparrow... I... well, you do realize what your asking?" Sparrow nodded, showing his seriousness in his eyes.

"Yes Derek, but if we can't hope to believe in Albion's own strength, then what hope is there?"

"Well Sparrow, you have my utmost respect and loyalty. While I'm confident the other guards will agree to joining you in this, it isn't in our power to decide it." Derek snapped his fingers as he thought of something. "If we were to see Fendier, I'm sure you can discuss terms about this army you are planning."

Fendier was the current lord of Bowerstone. After the chaos caused by the Spire had been put to a stop, the town needed a new political leader. So Fendier earned the title and took over Castle Fairfax. His public opinion was a positive one, eager to help out all the people of Bowerstone.

So Sparrow and Beck followed Derek to the castle.

The castle ground was an area of Bowerstone that Sparrow hadn't visited in years. Though not much had changed in that time. Lush, green gardens surrounded the area. The constant sound of splashing water came from the fountain set in the corner, its continuous flow being almost hypnotic. Sparrow only noticed a small change, the amount of nobles filling the area had seemed to have increase.

As they approached the large double front doors to the castle, a guard stepped toward them.

"Halt. What is your business here?" The guard asked, eying the four newcomers. Derek stepped forward.

"Sheriff Derek of Old Town, I am escorting the hero Lionheart to see Lord Fendier." The guard stiffened his posture and made a slight step back at the mention of the name.

"L-Lionheart?" he asked, stammering out his title. His eyes widening as he fully took in Sparrow's appearance and recognized him. "W-well you would need to make the proper appointments...but for Lionheart... Lord Fendier would be more then happy to have an audience with you." The guard gave a hard tap on the doors and they opened, allowing them through.

Much like the grounds, the castle was hardly changed. Walking the halls, Sparrow could remember his first visit there. The pain that occurred there as well as the beginning of his life was a clear memory to him.

One of the guards at the inside of the door led them further into the castle. They were taken through the different halls. Sparrow could feel himself following the same path he took as a child. Following the same steps he made all those years ago.

They stopped at another set of towering double doors. Sparrow knew they led to the castle's study. The guard hesitated for a moment before opening the door. Like the rest of the castle, no clear changes were visible. The walls were made of large wooden bookcases with and endless supply of literature. The back wall was a stained glass window, the floor based around it bearing the Heroes Guild Seal.

To the side of the room was a wooden desk and chair. A man was sitting at the desk shifting through the stacks of documents that littered the surface. The man hadn't noticed the large doors being opened.

"Uh, Lord Fendier," the guard said, the man rose his head from the papers, "you have guests, sir."

"What?" he asked, not looking at the guard, "I have no scheduled meetings today."

"Y-yes, sir. I am sorry for the unexpected intrusion. But it is insisted you see them."

"Oh?" Fendier's voice began growing annoyed, "And who thinks they are important enough to disturb-" he turned in his chair and stopped mid-sentence. "Sparrow! I had no idea you had returned to Bowerstone." The man's face softened as he approached the hero.

Fendier was a tall, thin, well kept man. Always with a clean shaven face, his black hair slicked backward. He wore fine robes that were fitting for his position.

"You are dismissed," he said, turning a ruling gaze to the guard. The guard gave a quick bow and turned to leave, almost tripping over himself at the speed he was walking. Fendier shook his head in disappointment. "Sorry about that, guards are a bit unnerved when things aren't according to a schedule." The man looked into Sparrow's eyes with sympathy. "I should take this time to express my sorrow for what happened to Alex. Dieing at the hands of some _cult_," he spat the word like poison on his tongue, "I still have trouble thinking something like that could happen in Bowerstone, I've tried so hard to keep this town in shape."

"Thank you Fendier," Sparrow spoke with gratitude.

"Now, may I ask what this is about? I'm sure it's not to enjoy the pleasure of each others company, especially when you come in with one of my Sheriffs trailing behind you." He shot a glance to Derek who took a step forward.

"Lord Fendier," Derek said, his voice steady, "Sparrow has asked for our help."

"And what might that be Sparrow? We are after all in your debt, name what you need and I will offer what I can." Sparrow took a deep breath before he answered.

"To allow the recruitment of Bowerstone citizens for our army." Fendier's posture froze up, his face went blank of emotion, and Sparrow could swear he saw a small amount of moisture forming on his brow.

"Excuse me?" he asked. Sparrow heaved a sigh and tried his best at explaining the situation. Though he knew some details were lost to the man, Fendier also showed understanding to much of it.

"Uniting Albion..." Fendier said after Sparrow was done, his hand on his chin, his eyes on the floor in thought. "I must say I like the idea Sparrow, but..."

"What?" the hero asked, raising his eyebrow questioningly.

"Well, I will grant my guards permission to join you, that I will do without hesitation. But for the citizens, while I can allow them, that doesn't mean they will be eager to help." Sparrow thought it over and knew he was right. "However, perhaps if you were to speak with them, let them see their hero request for their help, it may stir up their spirits to join."

"Alright, I will try my best," Sparrow answered.

"Excellent," Fendier said, excitedly bringing his hands together in a clap, "I will have papers drawn up for some kind of a draft, it will prove useful for gathering the signatures of your army." He turned to the sheriff beside Sparrow. "Derek, if you would, head into town. Find the other sheriffs and criers, have them spread the word to meet here in three hours. They better be expecting the words of a hero."

"Yes sir," the old sheriff answered with a salute, he then left the others to carry out his orders.

"So Sparrow," Fendier continued, "I hope your skill in speech is on par with your skill in combat. And please, take a long rest here while we get the preparations made." Sparrow smiled with a nod, he left the study and walked about the castle.

"Well that went better then I expected," Walter murmured, speaking after being silent for so long.

"It isn't over yet Beck," Sparrow replied, "even if we convince the people to join us, we have far more difficult tasks afterward." Walter nodded, knowing full well what was ahead of them.

They waited in the castles library. While material in the study was all of the Old Kingdom and heroes, the library was a vast collection of different books. Sparrow smiled inwardly as he found a copy of his biography, the hero rested his feet on top of a nearby table and flipped through the pages.

After a time,the hero turned to the last page, ending on a note of his impending marriage to Alex. Sparrow set the book down with a smile. A tapping across the room caught his hearing. Fendier was standing in the doorway, having rapped his hand against the wood to catch his attention.

"They are ready Sparrow." A smile stretching across his face, his excitement was as plain as day. Sparrow clutched at his chest, the idea of speaking to so many people left the pit of his stomach as chaotic as the sea in a storm. Walter gripped his shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile. They followed the Lord towards the castle's exit.

Passing by a mirror, Sparrow stopped before it. Seeing his own face looking back at him. He removed his hat and coat, making himself look more presentable. The hero rubbed his eyes and looked into them, he could see the eyes of any normal person. But he knew others saw the eyes of a hero, and they would be expecting just that. He took a deep breathe before walking out the doors.

Just outside the steps to the castle was the largest crowd he had ever seen. All the familiar faces of Bowerstone were there.

Beside Sparrow, Walter, Fendier, and Derek all stood, showing their support. As Sparrow stood before the crowd, their eyes all came to him.

"Everyone," he began, giving his voice as much command as possible, having it carry across the large crowd, "you are all wondering why you have been called here. I brought you all here to request something. I'm sure you have all heard of what had happened to my home, to my wife. Even what happened to Oakfield. Maybe you even know of what has been going on all across Albion. The evil that has been responsible for it all is still out there. A demon has his hand over Albion, and I have come to realize that I am not strong enough to defeat him alone. I need the help of you, citizens of Albion, to aid me in this battle. To raise your own strength in defiance to this monster, and fight as one with the other villages in one glorious army." The crowd began murmuring to one another, all being clearly shocked at what they heard.

"People, people," he called out, trying to have them listen, "I was like all of you long ago. I grew up in the streets of Old Town. I grew up as a normal child, oblivious to any notion that I could be a hero. It wasn't until Lucien killed my sister did I realize it. I felt helpless as I watched her die, but once again I feel that now. To realize I can't win. Jack of Blades has returned, and with it, he brings the destruction of Albion. Though the time of heroes has ended, that doesn't mean _we _are helpless. If we unite, not as heroes, not as separate villages, but as one nation. Then together, we will wipe this scourge from our lands." Sparrow retrieved Avo's Tear from his waist, he held the blade high into the air. "Whose with me? Who will fight for their home? Who will fight for their land? _Who will fight for their people_?"

The crowd went into an uproar of cheering, Sparrow could see them all, ready to battle for what they believed in. It filled the hero with a sense of pride.

"Now, this is only the beginning. Like any army, we will need the skills of all of you. Blacksmiths for arms, doctors for injures, guards for training, and soldiers for combat. Prepare yourselves, soon the battle will start and you will need to be ready." Sparrow turned to Derek with a smile. "I trust you can run things here while I'm away."

"You can count on me Sparrow," he replied. The hero gave a nod and walked back towards the castle. Hearing the crowd's cheering die down and Derek giving orders to organize what should be done.

"Not the best speech, but I'd say it got through," Beck said, a grin on his face, causing Sparrow to chuckle. As they entered the castle, Fendier approached them, giving the hero a slow clap.

"Excellent Sparrow, well done. I knew if anyone could rally Bowerstone, it would be you."

"Well Fendier, I wish I could stay and help more. But for the moment, rallying is all I can do now. One town will not be enough to stop Jack. There are more places we need to go." Fendier nodded.

"I understand Sparrow, the rest of us will do our best to prepare. Good luck out there."

Sparrow held out his arm and concentrated on his desired destination. The black rift opened before them, the swirling darkness welcoming them. The hero beckoned for Walter to follow, who looked slightly hesitant towards the portal. But he obeyed and followed Sparrow through.

**A/N: Well that's chapter 25. Finished, typed, soon to be posted. **

**Again I debated with myself about the length of this one. I had at first planned on having it at least go on until after their next destination, but I figured this would be a good stopping point.**

**So yeah, introduced a new character, really just a way of giving Bowerstone some type of leadership. And I'm sure Sparrow's "speech" is crappy as I'm not that well with em. But I tried, so hopefully it's not too bad. **

**As usual, hope everyone has enjoyed this chapter. Tune in next time... **


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter: 26**

The hero and sheriff stepped out of the black portal that swirled around them. As it disappeared Beck clutched his chest, hacking a cough from the frigid temperatures that brought his body down.

"Sorry," Sparrow apologized with a smirk, "Mistpeak takes a lot out of you if your not used to it." Walter had fallen to his knees, his body trembling.

"Ah balls Sparrow, give a guy a warning why don't you." The hero just laughed at him as he recuperated.

They both trudged through the snowy mountains, Sparrow's pet would run off randomly to chase something. Though Beck didn't say anything, Sparrow could practically feel the curiosity coming from him.

After a while of walking, they could see trails of smoke rising into the air. The snowy ground was flattened, giving tell tale signs of a constant path. The Dweller camp soon came into view, little had changed save for a wooden walls that encircled the camp. A metal door served as a gate that allowed entrance, two Dwellers stood guard outside.

"Who goes there?" one of the guards demanded, aiming his rifle toward them.

"Sparrow," the hero returned, eying both guards for a reaction, "I've come to see Sabine." The guards looked to one another, but nodded.

"Open," the guard said toward the gate. Without hesitation, the gate was pulled upward. Sparrow could see the simplicity of the contraption. Two poles stood parallel to each other at the sides of the gate, being connected by a horizontal plank. At the top of the gate was a loop that had a thick rope tied to it. The rope ran up and over the plank, Sparrow could easily guess that someone stood on the other side and hoisted the gate upward.

"While they aren't dangerous, they are jumpy around newcomers," Sparrow whispered to Beck, warning him this time, "just stay close and watch yourself."

Sparrow was at least happy that the Dwellers didn't show the same hostility as they did for his first visit. A few glances were all that were given as they walked through the camp. While approaching the spot Sabine's tent would be, the hero noticed the area had it's own wooden wall. A double door gate with its own guards stood in the path.

These guards however did not stop them, their expressions showed as if they were expecting them.

Sabine's tent still stood tall, with it's owner sitting on the simple throne. The aging chief looked up in surprise at the hero.

"Ah Sparrow, good to see you again. I see you enjoy bringing newcomers to our home." His eyes locked on Walter, even when standing next to the hero, Sabine checked for signs of an enemy.

"Sabine," Sparrow started, "we have come to make a request." The hero made the procedure of explaining to the chief what they were doing. Surprising to Sparrow was Sabine's emotionless form as he mentioned the army. Though after a second thought, he figured it was likely for a group of people that hid away from other parts of society to not understand the magnitude of forming an army in Albion.

"You and your people have great experience in combat and survival skills. The Dwellers would make invaluable allies," Sparrow finished. Sabine gave the hero an odd look. Sparrow could tell it was a look of sad refusal.

"Sparrow," he said, "you ask much of us. To mold with your army, and fight monsters. For me to send my men to fight, with the idea that they wont return." He took a deep sigh before continuing. "I must respectfully decline your request." Sparrow remained silent, it was something he was expecting from the chief, but Walter stepped forward.

"But sir," Beck protested, "you must reconsider. It is your duty as people of Albion to help defend her."

"My duty?" Sabine snapped, the tone forced Beck to step back, "Take off your blinders and look around you. See the land for what it is." His thin arm waved across the area, the elevation of the tent's ground allowed them to see past the walls to see the scenery stretched out before them. "Do you see a country of unity? Or do you see separate lands and separate people? It is something I've learned over the years. To look after your own and no others. We have survived for generations based off this."

The Chief looked as though he would continue but he stopped himself. After a heavy breath was taken, his features softened and he looked back to them.

"I apologize, but you must understand. We have been handling ourselves just fine, assisting you would only provoke more attacks on my people. And with us helping you, our forces would dwindle here and threaten the lives of everyone." Sparrow gave Sabine a nod.

"I understand," he said, his tone flat. "You must do what you can for your people, I will not question your judgment. But, since you are adamant about this, we must be go-" Sparrow was stopped as the wooden gate behind them was thrown open. Four Dwellers ran to them, their faces showing fear.

"Chief Sabine, Chief Sabine!" The closest one cried hysterically.

"What, what is wrong?" the chief asked.

"We spotted more soldiers in black. They're approaching fast, we are outnumbered two to one." Sabine sat back in his throne, scratching his chin in thought.

"Two to one huh... Well men," he stood up with a look of excitement, "at least it's a fair fight! We will show these fools who they are up against!" A loud explosion sounded close to them. Sparrow and Walter ran off to find the source.

The front gate had been blown to pieces. From the opening, Zealots poured into the camp, cutting down the Dwellers that tried to defend themselves. The Zealots spotted them both and in a second they were surrounded.

"Mind watching my back?" Sparrow asked to Walter, unsheathing his blade and forming his stance.

"Only if you watch mine," Beck replied, following Sparrow's lead.

"Deal."

They booth stood back to back as the Zealots attacked. Between the two swordsman, none got close enough for their own attack. The Dwellers soon joined in the fight, taking on the Zealots as their attention was split.

Sparrow and Walter separated as the Zealots numbers started to lower. Each taking down any that their blades could reach. But as they fought, another wave tore through the camp. Sparrow attempted to hold most of them back, fearful that any missed would harm either the Dwellers or Beck. Many of the Zealots clustered together, ready to try and overwhelm their smaller numbers. Sparrow readied his sword and charged at the advancing foes.

As they prepared to strike however, something fell between them both, causing them to stop. It was a large iron sphere. About double the size of Sparrow's fist. It's surface was completely smooth except for a small hole at the top that allowed a piece of rope to poke out. The hero then noticed the tip of the rope was ignited, the flame crawling down the rope and into the sphere.

Before Sparrow could react, the sphere exploded. The blast threw the hero into the air, its force sending him into the side of a caravan.

Sparrow laid for there for a moment. His feet dangled from the hole he had created, his other half sitting against the caravan's floor. As he gathered his wits, he remembered their current situation. Immediately, Sparrow jumped out of the caravan, raising his sword to strike at the nearest enemy.

But nothing was left. Where he had previously stood, only a small crater remained. What was left of the Zealots littered the area in the form of their black uniforms and limbs. Sparrow could see Beck, unharmed, leaning against his sword in an attempt to catch his breath.

Sabine stood amongst the wreckage, the chief was laughing like a mad man.

"Wonderful effect. Those bombs pack a bigger wallop then I had hoped for."

"What was _that_?" Sparrow asked, noticing a small shard of iron had cut into his shoulder. After removing it, he examined the metal, a piece of the sphere that had exploded.

"They call 'em bombs." Sabine answered, holding up another iron sphere in his hand, Sparrow jumped backward in reaction before he noticed the small rope wasn't lit. "A bit like those barrels that make good shooting targets when a fight starts, but a bit more portable."

"Well it almost took me with those damned Zealots." Sparrow couldn't help but glare at the thin man.

"Ah, well. The problem with explosives is that they can't really tell friend from foe," Sabine sighed.

"But the people chucking them into battle do," Sparrow retorted.

"Good point," he murmured, handing the bomb to a nearby Dweller. "I see that these 'Zealots' aren't going to leave us alone so easily."

"They won't stop until everyone in Albion is either dead or enslaved," Beck said, pushing the point to the chief.

"I see," Sabine said, staring off in thought, "perhaps there are times when ideals must be set aside for survival." The chief turned to Sparrow, a smirk twisting in the corner of his mouth. "Sparrow, you have shown how strong you and your companions are. Maybe it would be best for us to lend a hand against this threat."

"You are still welcome to join," Sparrow commented.

"Yes, well 'join' is something we will not do. We are still an independent people, forming with your army would take away from my peoples' freedom. But what we will do is aide you in this cause, as much as any ally can. You must promise us that Sparrow." The hero didn't need any time to question the request.

"Very well Sabine," Sparrow said, holding out his arm, "the Dwellers shall fight alongside Albion's army and be treated as their own people." Sabine gave a satisfied nod and shook the hero's hand.

"Then it is done, if you would give us a short time to recover from this attack, we will pack our things and move out to be with the rest of your men." Sparrow withdrew the map from his pocket and showed it to Sabine, marking Bower Lake.

"Bower Lake would be the best place for now," he said, earning a gesture of acknowledgment from the chief.

"I can tell you are still busy hero, so I will say my farewells and wish you luck." Sparrow and Beck gave their own farewells and left the camp.

"So..." Beck began, trying to bring up what was on his mind, "we are going _there_ next, huh?"

"Yeah," the hero replied, understanding Beck's concern, "hopefully it will go better then expected."

"Hmph," Walter huffed, "we would be better off not having any expectations at all, then at least we won't have to worry about missing them."

Sparrow chuckled at the comment. When they reached a safe distance away from the camp, Sparrow held out his arm once again, focusing his mind on where he wanted to go. They went inside the black gate as it opened, preparing themselves for what was on the other side.

* * *

The dark portal opened to their goal and Sparrow fell from it. Landing on his hands and knees, his breath becoming heavy and strained.

"Sparrow," Beck said, moving to his side, "whats wrong?" Sparrow tried brushing it off with a laugh, but found it hard to.

"Just... just feeling a little tired I guess." Scythe's words then echoed into his mind. The corpse's warning of the spell taking a toll on him. Sparrow figured using it so often wasn't a good idea, he pushed the idea aside, knowing he had to keep going.

Sparrow looked at his surroundings, they had ended up where Brollin's house stood.

"I had meant for us to come to Skyreach," the hero muttered, getting back on his feet as his breathing steadied.

"Well I'd say it was for the better," Beck said, "wouldn't look very good for us, a hole from the blackest abyss appearing in the center of town doesn't exactly say 'join us'."

Sparrow realized he was right, and he was sure their last visit hadn't stopped all of the cultists inside the village, they would have to be careful.

Before they left, they took a glance at the spot Brollin's house used to be. Only a pile of scorched boards were left, the ground around it was scarred black from the ash and flames.

Sparrow removed his hat and held it over his heart, giving his respects to the man who died there. After a moment of them standing there, they made their way to the village.

Skyreach didn't appear to have changed since they had last been there. People still went about their lives, the streets still held a few cultists standing guard. Not even whispers of what happened during his last visit circulated.

Not taking the chances, Sparrow stayed out of sight, going further into the village without being seen. They eventually found large pieces of cloth, Sparrow was able to use the needle from his supplies to make a cloak for Beck and himself, giving them hoods to cover their heads as well.

With their disguises, they were able to walk more freely though the village. The guards they passed gave curious glances but didn't stop them. Further into the city, they noticed a sudden change in people. They all looked scared, heavy looks of despair was written on their faces. It didn't take long to realize the cause of it, as they approached the town's square, they saw what had happened.

Both Sparrow and Walter looked on in horror as they saw the bodies of different townspeople, hanging from large stakes they were tied to. Dozens of used stakes were scattered across the square. Beck could only gasp at the sight, Sparrow saw a woman crying under one.

"What happened?" he asked her, the woman's sobbing quieted for a moment as she looked up at him.

"Th-that _butcher_ happened," she said, spitting out the word. Sparrow didn't understand what she meant, his questioning look caused her to glare at him.

"I'm sorry if I offended you," he said, trying to be quick with an apology. The woman's glare vanished as her eyes began welling up with tears.

"It, it's okay, I can see you both are new here," she said, taking a loud sniffle and turning a gaze to Beck who had approached them. "He, he came after that Veger died, killed by a hero they say. Veger only wanted to take our gold, but _he_ wants our blood. When he came, he started picking some of us randomly. They would be bound to these stakes, then he would decide what to do with them. Some he just killed, giving them quick deaths. Others he tortures and leaves to bleed out until they eventually die."

Sparrow looked at the different people. Their injuries were never the same between each. A few had simple cuts running across their chests. Some were done in so badly, they were completely unrecognizable. Sparrow gasped as he noticed some of the bodies were moving, they were still alive.

"Why doesn't anyone help them?" he asked. The woman shook her head.

"No one would dare, for fear they would be next when he comes back to choose more. That's how my husband was chosen." She began sobbing into her hands again. Sparrow couldn't take it. With one swift motion, he raised his sword up and cut through the ropes binding the man. His body fell to the ground in front of the woman. She looked up at him in shock. "Th-thank you."

With a glance to Beck, he understood what he was planning. They both ran to the stakes and cut the people free. A group of villagers began to form around them as they watched. Some ran to help carry away the victims who were still alive.

When there was no one left, Sparrow turned to the crowd around him. They looked intently to him, the hero could see a chance present itself.

A large wooden platform in the town's square, used for public announcements by criers, served as Sparrow's standing place. He removed his makeshift cloak, along with Beck. Sparrow could see the changes in the villagers' faces, like a wave washing through the crowd.

"Everyone," he called out, "you may recognize me. For the short time I was here, I walked among you in this town. My name is Sparrow, but I'm sure you know me better by my title, Lionheart." Again the faces of the crowed shifted, he could feeling their seething glares upon him.

"A hero?" One of the villagers shouted. "We don't need your kind!"

"It's your fault for all of this," another screamed. The hero narrowly dodged a whiskey bottle thrown at him.

"Please, listen to me," Sparrow pleaded, "I know you don't have any good feelings towards heroes. I've seen what has been happening here. But you must listen, what has been happening here is small compared to what their master is planning. All of Albion will either die or be enslaved by them. But you can help stop them. Across Albion, we are forming an army, capable of defeating these monsters. Help us to stop them." Sparrow had hoped his words would work, but he could tell from their faces of protest that it wasn't going to happen.

"Fight?" A villager yelled. "Why help you? It's your doing that we are like this!"

"Yeah," shouted another in agreement, "you've only made things worse for us!" The crowd was becoming unruly as more protests came from them.

"Shut it," Beck shouted over the crowd, stepping next to Sparrow, "listen to yourselves! I have protected Skyreach as a Sheriff long enough to know the strength this village has, how its people will fight to the death for what they believe in. Have you all given that up? Are you all so eager to accept defeat? Sparrow is not only the greatest hero I've had the privilege to meet, he is also the greatest man. With his help, we _can_ take back our homes, and take back our lives!" For a moment, Sparrow thought the Sheriff had succeeded, but only a moment.

"Can you now?" A rough voice broke through the noise of the crowd's murmurs. The faces of the villagers once again shifted, but to fear. Everyone dispersed at the center, falling over themselves to let a newcomer approach. They backed away as far as they could from the man.

Sparrow could see from their reactions that this man was the "butcher" he had heard of. His appearance matched the image of fear he made.

A tall, thin man. He wore a red cloth shirt, made to be similar to his master's, a hood that was stitched with it shrouded his face. The only armor he wore was a pair of black plate boots and gauntlets, each with their own designs made into the metal. The dominate piece to his attire was what he wore over the rest of his cloths. It resembled a butcher's apron, though the material was a black leather, small metal spikes decorated around the edges and on the ties. To Sparrow's disgust, he could see dried stains of blood on the surface. A long serrated blade dangled from his left side, a shorter sword was to his right. Over a dozen cultist guards were following behind him.

The man removed his hood. Like the hero expected, Jack's blade symbol was on his face. But unlike the others he had seen, being tattooed in black, his looked as though it had been carved.

"I see you saw fit to disturb my victims," the man said, eying the empty stakes.

"Who are you?" Sparrow asked, something about the man made Sparrow uneasy. Though the Zealots he had faced so far showed their own loss in humanity, their unnatural power from Jack being a prime key, this so called butcher seemed even farther gone. Sparrow wasn't sure if the man before him was even human at all.

"Me?" the man asked, giving off a slight chuckle. "Well, while I don't believe in the importance of names, such an unneeded formality, since we all already know yours, I can repay the honor." The man made a slight bow, almost looking impressed with himself. "Xaven is what you will know me as, for however long you stay alive to remember it anyway. It was _I_ who brought back the Master, and it was I who has been the most loyal. The Master has rewarded me well for my service, though I had to die once for such gifts, I welcomed it."

"Your sick," spat Sparrow, "and your 'Master' will fall, just as the rest of the Court has." Xaven laughed at the comment.

"So you killed a few fools that were in our Master's image. Good riddance to them I say, the Cult of Blades never looked to them as leaders, only as obstacles to the Lord's goals." Xaven looked around at the different villagers around him. "And now you think you can start an army against the Master, with these fools? What a joke, a simple flame that will be snuffed out by a quick breeze."

"Albion is much more powerful then you think, spineless cowards like yourself who betray the rest of us are the only blight I see." Xaven's eyes darkened for a moment at the statement.

"Oh hero?" he growled, "Look around you, see these pathetic wretches, look at the fear they show just by my presence. They are all weak fools who at least understand our power, only a few like yourself show the delusion of fighting back, something that will be changed quickly. But go ahead, humor me Sparrow, see if you can rally these people for your cause." Sparrow looked out to the crowd, their paralyzed fear from the man was evident.

"Everyone, listen to me!" he barked, gaining some of their attention. "Do you want your lives to be run like this? People like this controlling you? Raise your arms against them, show Jack and his followers that Albion will fight." The crowd seemed to be unaffected, Sparrow was starting to lose hope that he would succeed. But he saw movement in the crowd, a lone man stepped past everyone, even passing Xaven without a glance. Sparrow recognized him as the owner of the Stars Rest Inn. The keeper stepped onto the platform and looked Sparrow in the eyes.

"I remember you," he said, "you stayed at my Inn, payed well for drinks too. I also remember Brollin, the day before he died, he delivered a shipment of his cider to me. We talked for a while, and he mentioned you. Brollin told me of a hero he and his daughter had saved, I know how Brollin felt about heroes. But when he talked about you, he showed the utmost respect. If he were alive today, I'm sure he would have joined you in this, and that's a good enough reason for me to." The Innkeeper held out his hand and Sparrow shook it. The hero then turned back to the crowd.

"If none of you will fight for yourselves," Sparrow said, raising his hand out and pointing off in the distance, his gaze fixed on the spot an old sheriff's house used to stand, "then do it for Brollin. A man who spent years protecting all of you. He died at the hands of these cultists, he died to give Albion a chance against Jack. So please, everyone, raise your weapons in defiance to his rule. Join the rest of Albion, become the army that has been needed for too long. Fight in memory of Brollin, and show the same courage he once had!"

At that, the crowd cheered. Their uproar caused Xaven and his guards to look on in confusion. Xaven's mood then switched to a fierce anger.

"Fine!" he snapped. "Send these people to their deaths, it will not matter. I suppose I'll have to tell the Master that this is a town not worth saving." Sparrow unsheathed his sword and held it at the man.

"Or I just kill you here and now, you won't have to worry about it." Again Xaven laughed at him.

"While that may usually be intimidating, I can see that your power is drained." He was right, Sparrow hadn't even fully recovered from his fight with the Queen, fighting at the Dweller camp and overuse of the portal spell didn't help him. "And besides," Xaven continued, "if by some chance you do cut me down, I would not fall. I would merely return to the Void, reborn through the Master's power. But I will leave you at the mercy of these guards." With a snap of his fingers, the cultists around him raised the swords and made their stances. "The Master will be pleased to at least know his troubles are over." Xaven held out his arm and a black portal tore open, the dark rift closed as the man stepped through.

The cultists marched to the stage, their weapons ready to strike. Sparrow jumped into the group, stabbing into one as he knocked over others. Beck joined in, attacking the nearest guard. To Sparrow's surprise, even the villagers around them helped. All drew their own weapons and attacked, not hesitating against the cultists.

As the last guard fell, Sparrow could see more coming. All around them, cultists were running to them, swords high in the air. But the villagers stood against them, the few who didn't already have a sword ran to their shops and grabbed what they could, shovels, pitchforks, anything they could.

They battled. The people of Skyreach with the aide of Sparrow, going against the cultists who had been oppressing them for so long. Sparrow spared moments between his attacks to admire their zeal, how quickly they changed into fighting soldiers.

The fight didn't last long, the cultists were quickly overwhelmed by the villagers uprising.

"You see everyone?" Sparrow shouted to them. "This is what you can do, fighting like this will save Albion. With your aide, we will stop Jack, stop this cult, and send them all back to the dark Void they came from!" As the villagers once again cheered, Sparrow turned to Beck. "Walter, I trust that you can coordinate everyone here. Search the village, look for any remaining guards, and find more villagers willing to help."

"You can count on me Sparrow," Beck replied. "When we are ready, we will head to Bowerstone."

Sparrow nodded and held out his arm, summoning a dark portal. The hero gestured goodbye to his friend before he walked through and disappeared.

**A/N: Oh my JESUS! This took way longer then I wanted. And as much as I would like to blame a terrible schedule or a dog dieing or something like that... well really I got kinda side tracked with other sources of entertainment. **

**Ended up buying New Vegas a few days ago, and dammit that thing is addictive. Much more so then 3... Anyway, at least it didn't take longer then a week, so really it isn't bad since that was my usual update speed. But since my last few ones were pretty good... it's a shame to see that streak end. **

**But be grateful! Heh, I've seen fics that take freakin months between updates. Though those fics are actually good... Whatever, chapter 26 is done and we have seen the re-entrance of an old character (clap hands) yay. So hope you guys have enjoyed this one, more is on the way.**


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter: 27**

Sparrow stepped into the sanctuary, sitting down at the nearest seat to rest as the pains of the spell once again attacked him. Theresa was across the chamber, looking like she was just expecting him.

"All went well I hope," she said. The comment somewhat annoyed the hero, knowing that she already knew the answer. Though he wasn't in a position to deny her.

"Yeah," Sparrow said, out of breath, "we have had good results."

"Good," Theresa replied, "but we are far from an army Sparrow, there is still much to be done." Sparrow nodded, already aware of the fact. It would be naive to assume he was finished.

"Wanted to make sure we have ready supplies for when people from Bowerstone start to come." The Seeress gave a simple nod, showing her understanding.

"Then you will be happy to know that appropriate supplies have been set up at Bower Lake." That surprised the hero.

"Really?"

"Yes, that should ease your mind for now. Seeing as you have another journey in mind." Her last comment didn't catch him off guard, again understanding her insight to his own personal thoughts.

"I do, though I doubt that old pit will have a surplus of fighters, their quality will more then make up for it." A slight smile found itself on the old gypsy's face.

"Well then you should be off, but first," Theresa approached the hero, running a hand over his arm. Almost in an instant, Sparrow could feel some of his fatigue leave him. "this should make things easier for you."

Sparrow gave a thankful nod and smile. He turned to leave, but rather than summoning a rift to transport him, the hero used the gate to his side, sending him to Hero Hill. From there, Sparrow turned left and headed into the forests.

* * *

The small journey through the forests, and over the mountain trails was enjoyable to the hero. Sparrow could remember when the path was infested with bandits and Balverines alike, now it was just a simple trip that he was sure the most vulnerable person could walk.

It gave him a sense of accomplishment, all the backtracking he had been doing allowed him to see the more long term changes his past journey had done. His domesticated lifestyle back in Bowerstone had saw against that, not that he was complaining.

Unlike its entryway, Westcliff hadn't changed since his last visit. The massive amount of shops and lack of actual homes was the staple used for tourists and family visits. A "tourist-entrapping amusement zone" he remembered. Everything being crisp and clean like a monk's sanctuary. While a village of merchants and young families was a poor choice to locate help, the one thing that had not evolved away from the old bandit camp was what he came for.

The Crucible loomed over the city, it's gates still serving as a place of blood, gold and entertainment. Sparrow chuckled to himself as he noticed the irony in his actions. Lucien had sought the Crucible as a way of weeding out Spire Guards from slave workers. Now the hero was about to attempt the same tactic, for a much nobler cause of course.

Mad-dog 'the strangler' McGraw, along with his commentator partner, Allen Murray, stood guard outside the front gates to the Crucible. Ready to greet any new patrons or fresh meat that found their way to them.

As the hero approached them, he could hear both men arguing over something. Their topic having to do with their favorite deaths in the ring. A sharp bark from Sparrow's dog stopped them both breathless as they looked at the hero in surprise.

"Mad-dog!" Allen shouted, "Has it finally happened, has my mind finally cracked under years of worthwhile entertainment? Or am I really seeing a legend before me?"

"I see 'im too Murray," Mad-dog said, "Lionheart, my goodness, it's been ages hasn't it?"

"I suppose it has," Sparrow replied, while he didn't have any ill will toward the Crucible's two leading men, his time as a fighter weren't the best he's ever had.

"Oh boy!" Allen began shouting again, "I'm as giddy as a murderer on bail, I truly hope your return here also means a return to the pit. The Crucible needs its star attraction back, ready to fill the ring with blood, corpses and of course the occasional sack of gold!"

"Right you are there Murray. While this old arena is still the most thrivin' spectacle of carnage in Albion, it has been seein' less and less in attendants lately." Sparrow just shook his head.

"Actually, I didn't come here to fight. There's a cult that's growing in power and I'm looking for willing fighters to join in the fight and become apart of Albion's army. I was hoping I could find competitors to help. Knowing how well the arena can train fighters, any support would be a great benefit.

The two commentators stayed in silence for a moment, thinking on what Sparrow had said. Allen then snapped his fingers.

"Ah yes, I remember we had captured one of those cult fellows. Figured he would make an excellent crowd pleaser... I was wrong. Fool ran afoul of one of the set traps and well..." Allen ran a finger across his neck, making a choking noise, "didn't last long. Made a damn decent mess though, took hours to clean up all that flesh." Allen laughed enjoyably at the last bit.

"As my colleague failed to mention," Mad-dog began, giving the man next to him an odd look, "I'm sure we can spare a few contenders. Since things have been slow lately, they will be itchin' to fight somthin'." He gestured Sparrow forward and they all entered through the gates.

Inside of the Crucible they parted, both commentators leaving to talk with other fighters that were training farther inside the structure.

The front lobby was as spacious and foreboding as ever. Across the room, near the doors leading to the Crucible's first arena, were four familiar faces.

"Your all still here?" he asked, completely bewildered. Seeing the same four people who had pathetically wimped out of the arena at the last moment.

"That's kinda harsh ain't it?" asked Bessie, the crossbow wielding woman, whose weapon occasionally suffered from a "cold".

"Well considering what happened last time..." Sparrow began before Meatbane, the bandit dressed sword fighter, interrupted him.

"Yes yes, Sparrow, we were all ashamed at how we acted. But after seeing you out there, well you motivated us to improve. We've been fighting here ever since, earning our weight in gold, all ethical problems aside of course..." Without warning, Meatbane balanced himself on one leg, rested a hand on his hip and the other on the back of his head. "And my sharp pixie wand has been fabulous against those mean ugly creatures," he said in a high pitched voice. After a moment the bandit gave his head a heavy shake and glared at the robbed man in front of him. "Damn you Zachary!" The mage gave a hearty chuckle.

"Still playing mind games I see," Sparrow said to the mage. Zachary gave him a large smile.

"You don't know the half of it," he replied with a laugh, "I've improved my technique." He then turned back to Meatbane, who raised his fist and punched himself. Meatbane then grabbed at his cheek and grunted in pain.

"Damn it Zachary!" he shouted, grabbing his rifle and aiming it at the magician, "I swear to Avo I'll paint these walls with your brains." Zachary just smiled before Meatbane lowered his gun, he then raised the rifle up again and brought the end down hard into his crotch. The bandit fell to the floor, groaning in pain. A laugh came from the little girl standing with the group, her voice sounding deep and monstrous.

"Gorgoron enjoys the pain of odd looking man," she said, "Gorgoron also glad to see blue glowy man again, Gorgoron think glowy man would make good evil bringer. Only missing your own pigtails."

"I'll keep that in mind," the hero replied.

"So what brings you back to the blood halls of the Crucible?" Zachary asked.

"I'm in the market," Sparrow remarked, sending a glance to Meatbane who was picking himself up off the floor, "looking for able-bodied fighters to join in an army I've started." The four all paused for a moment, looking between each other.

"An army?" Bessie asked, being given a nod from the hero.

"What ever for?" Zachary added.

"You all remember Lucien?" Sparrow brought up, they all nodded.

"Yeah," Meatbane commented, "old guy, crazy, tried killing us all. And to think we wanted to join him."

"Yes well, this new threat will be much worse. But I have hope that we can win if the people of Albion are brought together."

"Gorgoron not feel happy about helping little humans," said the little girl.

"If you don't want to help for Albion's sake, then think about your own. All that fame and publicity will certainly help you gain more fans." It didn't take long for them to see the logic and benefits. The four nodded to one another and then to Sparrow. They then heard footsteps near them and caught Mad-dog and Allen approaching them, followed by a small group of men.

"Ah," Mad-dog said in surprise, "I see you've been able to convince this lot into helpin' ya." He pointed backward to the group behind him. "Well, these behind me are some of the best contenders that the Crucible can offer. I trust they'll give nothin' more then their all."

"And if they don't," Allen added, "at least their deaths will inspire your other fighters as to what _not_ to do." Mad-dog groaned before glaring at the man.

"Damn it now Allen, what was it I've told you about talkin' like that."

"What?" he defended, "I'm just trying to be optimistic."

"Your bein' a damn fool."

"Fine Mad-dog, I _won't_ offer any of my wisdom to these young soldiers." The old fighter just sighed before turning to the fighters around him.

"Alright you lot, get yourselves ready! You'll be fightin' in the name of the Crucible, so you'd do best not to make 'er look bad!" They all then left the room, heading into different directions to prepare themselves. "I'll send 'em to Bowerstone as soon as they're ready."

"Thank you," the hero said graciously. Allen tapped Mad-dog on the shoulder for his attention.

"If I may add my own advice now, we could send more then fighters for Sparrow." The commentator gave a questioning look. "I'm positive _he_ could lend some sort of help, and keep him out of our hair."

"Ahhh Allen, I think that is a good idea," Mad-dog replied with a grin. "Cleaner!" he called out at the top of his lungs. After a few moments one of the side room doors swung open. A think man walked out, he wore what Sparrow thought of as a nobleman's suit that was tattered and dirty, his brown hair held shades of gray and looked to be receding near the sides.

"What is it Pup?" he asked in an annoyed tone. "We have discussed this, if I am to get anything done in this pit, then I must be given time to complete my previous set of tasks."

"No no," Mad-dog said, "it isn't another choir."

"Who is this?" Sparrow asked.

"I am a man of culture," the man replied, looking at his surroundings with disgust, "and hygiene." Mad-dog gave grunt of amusement and rolled his eyes.

"Yes, a man of culture and all that other rubbish. More importantly, he is a man of gamblin'. Lost a bundle a few years back, so we set him to work cleanin' the arenas and cages."

"My gambling days are well over now," the man said absentmindedly.

"You've said that before," Mad-dog laughed, "then you go and double your time with us."

"What happened?" Sparrow asked, his curiosity being struck.

"Well," Mad-dog started, "he thought he had a good bet when you decided to grace our arena with your skill. Of course he bet against your survival."

"Yes yes," the man remarked, "I'm well aware of my own luck. Precisely why I have turned away from it. Now if it isn't too much to ask, why am I called here?"

"Your under new employ," Mad-dog answered with a smirk, "our good friend Lionheart here is looking for helpin' hands. I have no doubt that you will do an adequate job." The man was about to protest before he was interrupted. "It's either him or back to the pits." He thought about it for a moment and accepted it. "Good, now you two behave, I will be busy sorting this out. Much luck to ya Sparrow."

"Yes," Allen added, "try your best not to be killed." The comment earned another groan from Mad-dog but he said nothing, only deciding to walk away without another word.

"Well," the man said, turning to Sparrow, "I am at your service Master." Sparrow laughed at the man, gaining a glare from him.

"Just call me Sparrow," he replied. "By the way, do you have a name, or should I just call you 'Cleaner'?"

"No, none of that, you can call me by my name," he said, "it's Jasper."

"Hm, well Jasper we best be going. I have much to accomplish, and I'm sure I will be able to find some form of work for you." Jasper didn't show any excitement towards it. But so far, the hero had already proven to be a much better employer than Mad-dog, so he didn't mind as much.

Though his feelings became mixed as he saw a black pit appear out of thin air from the hero's hand. Sparrow then beckoned him through before disappearing inside. Jasper heaved a sigh and reluctantly followed.

**A/N: Well there ya go. The introduction to a Fable favorite. Though I must say I've had a lot of trouble trying to figure out how to bring Jasper in. Since there really isn't anything that explains his background pre-Fable 3. A few ideas had come and gone, each being trashed for a newer one. But I finally came to a conclusion, might not be the best but it's something.**

**And yes, the chapter is a bit short, really just a minor chapter. And you may notice why it's ended so shortly in the next chapter with how it changes a bit. **

**So as usual, hope everyone has enjoyed this one.**


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter: 28**

Sparrow could hardly believe his eyes. When he was told supplies were at Bower Lake, he had assumed a poor amount of items that were easy for a mystic gypsy to scrape together.

Dozens of crates and bags filled the area, covering much of the land. Tents, beds, food, maps, anything and everything they would need to make a base of operations, and then some. After his moment of bewilderment passed and Sparrow's mind started working, he could realize how easy it would have been for Theresa.

The hero could remember his years working in the Spire, he had seen a great amount of things within the tower. One thing being the overabundance of supplies Lucien held for the guards and Commandants. It didn't seem unlikely that it all came from there, unneeded clutter for the Seeress.

"Jasper," Sparrow said, turning to his newest helping hand, "go to Bowerstone, find the sheriff of Old Town called Derek, tell him to come down here with people to help." He looked down at the man's ruined cloths and reached into his bags, pulling out a handful of gold and giving it to him. "And clean yourself up, can't have you working dressed like _that_."

"Uh... thank you," Jasper said, accepting the gold with slight hesitation before running off toward Bowerstone.

Sparrow began setting things up. Becoming more and more impressed with the selections.

It didn't take very long for Derek to come, followed by much of Bowerstone's citizens. The camp was fully prepared in a matter of hours. Most of the tents were being used as a sleeping quarters, training dummies were set up for the soldiers, even a forge was created to allow the blacksmiths to make arms for the fighters. The largest tent in the camp was to be used by Sparrow, a point of privacy to allow tactical choices to be heard and made. The inside holding different charts and papers for what they would need, including a circular map of Albion, much smiler to the one within the Sanctuary.

The camp was starting to fill with recruits, already preparing themselves with training, Derek proving to be an excellent teacher.

Jasper began noticing a distance in Sparrow's thoughts. While he knew the hero was expecting many more visitors, it seemed to be from something, or someone, else.

That notion was figured out the next day. One of the guards ran to the hero, speaking of a large group heading towards them, looking as though the were planning an attack. As Derek was already preparing the people for a defensive position, Sparrow stopped them, calling to let them pass. For a moment, the old sheriff thought the hero had lost his mind, but Derek trusted his friend's judgment and withdrew.

From the camp's entrance came someone no one else could expect. A pirate dressed like a noble, with a miniature army of bandits following behind. Sparrow greeted the pirate, showing a familiarity between them.

"Impressive Sparrow," Reaver said, casting his gaze over the camp with admiration, "when you get an idea in your head, you really go all out."

"I could say the same with you," Sparrow replied, "looks as though you have all the criminals in Albion fighting for you." The marksman gave a light chuckle at the comment.

"Wasn't as difficult as you'd think. Though they would have no monetary gain in the endeavor, the fear of death was a perfect catalyst in bringing up our lawless friends' patriotism."

"Well then, have them set up camp here and make themselves useful." Reaver nodded and gave the command.

The new arrival of criminals had an understandable effect of uneasiness go though the others. But they made no trouble, even impressing some of the senior guards with their skill in combat, just the soldiers Sparrow needed.

A full week had passed with everyone doing what they needed, it was then that they got even more visitors. A large convoy of horse pulled caravans came into their camp. It looked as though Sabine brought the entire camp with him.

Sabine looked excited as he could be, ready to go out and fight. It took a considerable amount of persuasion from Sparrow to calm him down and take things slowly. So the Chief turned to hardening his men in combat, as well as offering his knowledge to the hero.

Only after two more days did Beck arrive with his chosen help from Skyreach.

Sparrow could see their power growing by the day. Though he questioned his own ability to be an effective leader. But Walter and Derek both provided their own experience to aide in the training of soldiers, and giving excellent insight into strategic plans they had learned from years of service. Even Jasper proved to be an invaluable helper to the hero, giving much needed aide in the less physical and strategical parts in keeping the camp together.

But no matter how much they improved, it didn't take away the harsh reality of their limitations. Sparrow knew who their enemy was better then anyone else. And he knew his allies just as well. They were planning on attacking unnaturally augmented soldiers and otherworldly demons with town guards and civilians who've had little seasoning in the ways of warfare. The most appropriate comparison Sparrow could make would be if he had tried fighting off the Great Shard with rocks. But with their progress, Sparrow could see that it wouldn't be long until he would start his next plan for Albion's army.

When the day finally came for them to make use of their training and preparations, the excitement was as thick as the air they breathed. They all looked up toward Sparrow, Walter, Derek, and Sabine, all standing before their men.

Sparrow expressed his pride toward their hard work, congratulating them on their accomplishments. After the praising was finished, they explained their plans. They divided some of the camp into groups of different sizes and skill. Tasking each with a specific location, a town that was either under Jack's influence or was close to becoming so. To "save and recruit" was how Sparrow put it, each group being given a special hand written request by Sparrow, asking to help fight for Albion.

It didn't take long for the concept to take hold. As days turned into weeks and weeks to months, their army grew. More and more groups were sent out to rescue villages, Sparrow himself even joined in for a few raids, judging the need based on cult activity in the area.

One battle in particular helped them immensely. During the struggle, many of the villagers were in danger of crossfire. It forced them to hold back their attacks for fear of harming any innocents. Their enemy took advantage of it, pushing them back and gaining the upper hand. As Sparrow thought of the attack as a loss, he heard the battle cries of a group of men. The villagers came charging into the battle, cutting down any of the cultists who got close. It was all they needed to turn the tide and become the victors. The group's leader introduced himself as Swift. Though young in age, his skill matched that of masters. Swift and his men made excellent additions to their army.

But that didn't mean they were successful in everything. Lives were always being lost in conflicts with the cultists. Some raids became nothing but failures, groups being sent but never coming back, minimal survivors from failed attacks.

Their worst lose was when Sparrow tried taking a large base that the cultists had set up near the Tempest Will, obtaining it would be of great importance and make their final strike all the more easier. Sparrow put together some of his best soldiers, including Walter, to take part in the attack. While the hero would have gone along himself, important duties at the camp forced him to stay, but he was confident in their ability to accomplish it themselves.

Days had passed since he had sent them away. Without any word on their success, the hero was becoming worried. When more then enough time for them to make it there and back passed, Sparrow organized a small party to locate them.

Sparrow took part in the search as well, using the dark portals as a quick transport to their last locations. They searched everywhere they could, trying to find any trace. As they neared the base they were supposed to attack, signs of a battle trailed away. Bodies were laid out along the trail, some being cultists, most being of their own soldiers.

They followed the path a long distance, but eventually it lead to a dead end. All that was around them was the side of a small mountain, rocks littered the area. As they turned to leave, Sparrow caught something. The hero noticed tracks in the ground around the rocks, on the rocks themselves he found traces of ash and soot, signs of explosives being used.

They cleared away the rubble and debris. After it was all gone, they could see the entrance of a cave. Deep inside were three bodies, one of which being Beck. Sparrow checked them all, finding a faint pulse from them, they were barely alive. It only took a second for Sparrow to take them back to Bower Lake, finding spare beds and summoning their doctor.

Their condition was minor, save for a few wounds that would take little time to heal, their main problem was almost dieing of starvation. But Sparrow was informed to expect quick recoveries from them.

When Beck finally pulled himself together, Sparrow wanted to know what had happened. Apparently, the base was much more fortified then they had anticipated. After losing most of their soldiers in the frontal attack, they were forced to retreat, losing even more men as they ran. It eventually came down to just himself and two others. They had tried seeking shelter in a cave, they were discovered. But rather then chase after them, the cultists blew apart the cave entrance, trapping them inside.

Sparrow was at least happy to see his friend still amongst the living. Though he was worried about the effects it had had on Beck. Having ordered him to bed rest for the next few days, he would hear him waking up at night screaming. But Beck wasn't the only one to have changed.

Walter could see Sparrow becoming increasingly distant to everyone in the camp. Disappearing for hours and taking less time to work out different attack plans, having the others do the tasks themselves.

One night, Beck tried finding the hero, searching across the camp for any sign of him. No trace of Sparrow could be found, but as Beck was about to give up, he heard a sharp banging noise. The sound led off into the camps forge. The ventilation hole at the top of the tent bellowed with smoke, showing that it was in use.

Entering the tent, Beck could see Sparrow standing over the forge's anvil, hammering away at a sword in his hands.

"Sparrow," Walter called to him, causing the hero to stop his work and turn to him, "why are you here?" Sparrow gave a simple shrug of his shoulders, continuing his hammering.

"Two reasons I suppose," he answered. "I've been trying to feel useful." The comment struck oddly to Beck.

"Useful? What are you going on about Sparrow? Your the most important guy in this whole bloody camp, and you should be figuring out our next course of action, not working on weaponry." A chuckle was Sparrow's first response, still keeping the rhythm of his blows on the sword.

"The others can handle it just fine, a fool hero standing in front of a map won't help us any."

"Sparrow," Beck said, taking a step toward him, sensing the distress in his friend's voice, "something tells me this isn't all about keeping yourself occupied. What's really wrong with you." The hero took a heavy breath and sighed before turning to him.

"I'm a hero aren't I?" Beck nodded. "Well, I've tried figuring out what that means. Can I call myself a hero when I've been reduced to sitting on the sidelines? Sending others to fight and possibly die. I always thought I was bringing back the old ways of heroes, but now I feel as though it has only gotten worse. Losing that battle has shown me my own incompetence. I should have been there, I should have been fighting. What kind of hero am I?"

"It wasn't your fault Sparrow," Beck replied, "what happened at the base was only because of Jack. You doubt yourself too much. Though you are a hero, that doesn't make you a full time fighter, and that certainly doesn't take away from your other abilities. You are Lionheart, conqueror of the Spire, destroyer of the Court, founder of Albion's Army. You've helped unite Albion into one group, something that hasn't existed for hundreds of years, something that no other hero could claim to have accomplished. The people of this camp, of this army, they all look up to you and not just for your fighting prowess. They look at you and see a leader, they trust your guidance and judgment, even if you don't at times. And everyone, myself included, knows that you will be the one who leads us into our last battle and retake Albion as our own." Sparrow then showed a smile, giving a short laugh before returning to his sword.

"You talk too much Walter, anyone ever tell you that?" Beck returned the laugh.

"Of course they have, I just never try to listen." After a moment, Sparrow put the hammer away and dipped the red hot blade into the basin of water. The sharp sizzle of the cooling metal sounded, producing thick puffs of gray smoke. "So," Beck began, "what was your other reason for being here?" Showing a smirk, Sparrow examined the sword he had worked on, slowly swinging at the air in a test. The smirk faded and turned to a smile as he turned to Beck, holding out the sword as he stepped toward him. Sparrow flipped the sword in the air and caught its sharpened end, holding the handle out toward Beck.

"Just trying to outfit our best soldier with an appropriate weapon," the hero urged Beck to take the sword. The ex-sheriff looked at the blade in awe. A beautifully crafted longsword. It's length almost matched his height. The sharp sides and end of the blade was a silvery white, while the rest was a light gray. Small runes ran up the sword's length, each symbol hammered into the steel.

"Sparrow... I" Beck tried saying, at a loss for words.

"I've put all my experience as a blacksmith into that blade," Sparrow said with a prideful smirk, "and a little of what I know as a hero." Beck gave the sword a swing, despite it's size, the blade felt light. "Take good care of it Walter and it will take care of you."

"Thank you Sparrow," Beck said, giving the sword another swing.

Sparrow gained a much more positive attitude for after that. Showing a new zeal and passion for what he was doing. And not just because of his talk with Beck, Sparrow was excited for what they were coming towards.

Almost all of Albion either held support for their cause or fought for it. They had successfully slowed down the Cult's advances across Albion. And Sparrow knew that they could start to plan for their final strike against Jack and his fortress.

When it was decided to begin preparations for the attack, Sparrow sent his best couriers to deliver the message to the smaller camps they had set up around Albion. Each being told to prepare themselves to rejoin with the rest of the army.

A week passed since the messages were sent out, already receiving confirmation messages from all but one courier. While the courier wasn't truly late, Sparrow couldn't help but feel worried.

The next day one of the scouts sent to watch the surrounding area came back out of breath, Sparrow and the others tried talking to him but the scout was hysterical. After a few minutes of trying to calm him down, the scout explained what he saw. A large attack force of Zealots heading toward the camp.

Sparrow rounded up every soldier in the camp to get their defenses ready. Then they all saw it, the attacking Zealots the scout mentioned. All of them stared off in shock as they realized how much of an understatement "large" was.

The Zealots stretched out farther they could see, impossible to even try and determine their numbers. Like their own army marching toward their camp. It was the largest group Sparrow had ever seen. At the front of them was their leader, the strongest known member of their cult, Xaven.

**A/N: Wewt! Chap 28 is now up! Who else is glad this happened? Seeing as how we all didn't die on Saturday... HAHA! Damn it that is still funny as all hell. Don't know what's more sad though, the fact the guy was pompous enough to believe he could predict the rapture, or how so many people believed him. Especially since it wasn't the first time the guy tried predicting the end of days. **

**Personally I'd rather put my faith in an entire civilization then one crazy priest. *cough * 2012 *cough * **

**Anyway, (done with the off topicness), chapter is done so yay. Story is actually going farther then I thought it would, still got a few chapters till the end too. So as usual, hope everyone is still enjoying everything. **

**Tune in next week on "The hero and the heroines!" *Applause * **


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter: 29**

It was all odd to the hero.

The army of Zealots marching toward them confused him. As he and his men stood by and readied themselves to fight, their adversaries just kept their pace toward them. Not charging as they came ever more closer, none even held their weapons out, preparing their own attack.

"What are they getting at," Sparrow thought aloud, not expecting an answer from any of his men.

"Perhaps they wish to surrender?" Reaver suggested, stepping beside the hero. Despite the obvious seriousness of the situation, Sparrow couldn't help but give an inappropriate chuckle at the notion.

Xaven could be seen clearly at the front of them all. His hood was pulled down, showing a proud smirk that made the hero a bit uneasy, it almost looked boastful. The Zealot leader raised a hand and motioned for them to come forward. The request didn't go unnoticed but it wasn't something anyone was expecting.

Sparrow gave a nod to the people behind him. Though a slight hesitation came from Sparrow, he moved forward, followed by the others. They all moved at a steady speed, though slow enough as to not be caught off guard from any surprise charge the opposite force might attempt.

They both stopped just a few feet away from each other, Xaven's smirk changed to a full smile.

"You surprise me hero," he said in an amused tone, "you have certainly rounded up a forceful resistance against the Master. Attacking us throughout Albion, bringing more blind fools to your own cause. You even plan an attack on his Lord's fortress in the Tempest don't you?"

Xaven tossed a piece of parchment over to Sparrow. It was a letter, the hero was shocked to see it was the one he himself had written to send to their bases. The seal holding the letter shut was still intact, having not be broken. Dots of red blood splatter covered a portion of the paper.

"Where did you get this?" Sparrow asked naively, though the answer looked obvious. Xaven's uplifting attitude shifted to annoyance for a split second, showing his notice to the poor question.

"Your courier made it about halfway," he replied, "he was caught by a small travel party and brought to me. Didn't even need to look at that letter of yours. Though your man resisted well, his silence didn't last long once I started removing limbs. His screams of pain were only outmatched by what he revealed to us of your so called army." Sparrow noticeably flinched at what he was hearing, bringing a bigger smile to Xaven's face.

"Of course, for his eventual compliance, we released him, with a knife across his throat. Though you may look at death in such a negative light, it is much more merciful than you wish to believe. In no way a form of punishment, but rather the _purest_ form of release. And you need not worry on leaving that base of yours in the dark, I made the proper arrangements to make sure you shouldn't be expecting their aide any longer."

"Why bother telling me this?" Sparrow spat, becoming agitated at his attempts to mock him before a battle.

"Why?" he echoed, sounding surprised by him asking. "To put things into perspective of course. The Master still only sees you and your army as idle threats, but he also sees that there is no need to slaughter so much of the land's population. So we are here to offer you this, lay down your arms, disband this 'army', and surrender yourself Sparrow. The Master has only required that _you_ be sacrificed."

"Hmph," Sparrow grunted, "is that all?"

"Think carefully on your response," Xaven warned, his eyes darkening, "I would have no problem cutting down each and every one of you vermin. But would _you_ really want to condemn your people, only to try and continue this farce?" It was Sparrow's turn to show a smirk as he turned and faced the expecting eyes of his soldiers.

"What say you men," he called out to them, "shall I give myself up, are you willing to surrender?" Everyone went into an uproar of protests, making the hero give his biggest smirk ever. "Then will we fight to the end? Until every one of these traitors are exterminated?" Again they went into an uproar, but on a positive note, each soldier raising their swords and rifles into the air. Sparrow turned back to Xaven, whose eyes twisted into a deadly glare. "You have your answer."

"Very well Sparrow," Xaven said with a sigh, "but the blood spilled today will be on your hands." He raised a hand into the air and snapped his fingers. At that moment, the Zealots grabbed their weapons and charged, and the battle began.

Sparrow's soldiers fought gloriously, holding their own against the Zealots of Jack.

Reaver was overjoyed as the fighting started, instantly finding a love for warfare. The close quarters combat was the perfect way for the marksman to fight. Able to fire his pistol in almost any direction and guarantee a hit. The pirate had a pile of bodies growing before they could even engage him.

Jasper was having less luck with his ranged combat. Having to hold his pistol with both hands to try and steady the shaking weapon. Clearly not a man of violence, he turned his head and closed his eyes tight as he pulled on the trigger, the push of the gun firing almost throwing him off his feet. The shot hit a target however, grazing across Beck's arm as it sped by.

"Ah," he shouted, clutching the wound, "what the balls Jasper!" The helper's face turned a ghostly white as he looked at Beck's fierce gaze.

"I-I am terribly sorry, I'm simply no good at this," Beck sighed and approached him, lifting up Jasper's pistol arm.

"Aim, _then_ fire," he said sharply. Jasper took a second to acquire his sights and pulled the trigger again. This time the shot caught a Zealot between the eyes, throwing his body to the ground in a loud thud.

"Ugh," Jasper moaned in a sickened voice, "that's so barbaric!"

"Well it's either that or dieing."

"You just had to go an say that, didn't you?" Swift came tumbling between them, a large gash in his rifle from a sword strike.

"You two ladies done bickering?" he asked sarcastically as he regained his posture, "Because we still have a _lot_ of killing to do." Swift ducked just as a Zealot made a swipe at him, using the position to his advantage, he aimed his rifle upwards and fired. The bullet tore through the Zealot's bottom jaw, cutting through his skull, killing him. "Ha," Swift yelled triumphantly, "I bet he tasted that one!"

"Your a mad fighter Swift," Beck commented, looking somewhat disturbed.

Sparrow charged in and locked blades with Xaven, having cut a path through the Zealots that stood in his way.

"You can't win hero," said the cultist, "the Master will rule Albion and your blood will be wiped from existence."

"Is that so?" Sparrow asked, sounding surprised, "Then why isn't your 'Master' here fighting me now? Why does he cower in his Void while we advance on him?" Xaven laughed as they disengaged, further annoying the hero.

"Such foolish ignorance, you have no idea of what the Master has planned, yet you dare try and make the claim that you will be triumphant. Your failure will only be more satisfying to him."

Sparrow was surprised by Xaven's strength, his abilities seemed on par with the Knight. His short blade able to block his attacks, giving him the chance to strike with his longsword.

When their swords didn't create any headway into their battle, Xaven jumped away and raised his arm. The ground underneath Sparrow shook and rippled, large spikes shot from the ground, trying to impale the hero. Sparrow ran forward towards their maker, dodging the spikes as he cleared the distance between them.

Xaven swung his blades in the air and they caught fire, trailing a black blaze across their metallic surface. Without warning, the cultists charged forward at the hero, with a speed he couldn't even comprehend.

Sparrow felt the sting of the burning blade as he blocked one but failed to stop the second. But the hero was quick to retaliate, breaking his defensive stance and driving his sword across Xaven's chest, cutting through his leather chest piece. Xaven growled in anger and jumped backward again. Sparrow was ready to finish him off, running forward after him.

But as he got closer to the cultist, a trap was set. Black chains sprang out from the ground and caught the hero by the legs and arms. He was held in place with no chance to escape.

"You should pay more attention to your surroundings," Xaven laughed, pointing to the ground under him. It had blackened from the dark trap he had placed on it, Sparrow wanted to slap himself for not noticing it.

As he prepared to strike, the sound of gunshots filled the air and his swords were shattered. Sparrow turned his head to see Reaver holding his pistol out.

"There," said the pirate, "now you don't have to bother me about any life debts." Beck then came and broke the chains binding him. Followed by Swift, keeping his rifle aimed and ready.

"Thanks," Sparrow said to them all, raising his sword up toward Xaven, a look of pure hatred on his face.

"Pathetic," Xaven spat out, "requiring help in the midst of battle." Sparrow chuckled at him.

"We fight together, there is no shame in that." The hero ran and thrust his blade forward.

The fighting stopped almost instantaneously, all around them the battle seemed to freeze. Every fighter, soldier and Zealot alike all looked at Sparrow. The Zealots watched as they saw their leader dieing, the hero's blade piercing through his heart. Xaven's eyes bulged as he hung onto the last few seconds.

"You... you won't win hero, no matter... what you try," Xaven said, his voice becoming slow and forced.

"I only wish you could stay alive long enough to see Jack and the rest of your kind fall." A weak smile worked it's way up on Xaven's face.

"Don't worry hero, we... will soon meet again." Xaven's eyes drifted shut and his body went limp on Sparrow's sword. The hero withdrew his blade and allowed the cultist's body to fall.

The remaining Zealots looked at their leader's body with horror. Before they could think of their next action, Sparrow's soldiers continued their assault, attacking the distracted Zealots. This forced a retreat from the cultists, all realizing their battle had been lost. They ran from the camp, creating portals to disappear from as the soldiers tried chasing them down to finish them off.

After the battle was fully over, a large bonfire was made. There the bodies of their beaten enemies were burned to be rid of. While others worked to bury their own who had died. As everything was slowing down, Sparrow gained everyone's attention, standing atop a pair of crates to look over them all.

"You have all done well, every single one of you has shown what can be accomplished when you fight for it." Sparrow held up the black hilt of Xaven's shattered longsword. "Jack's strongest soldiers has been slain today. This so called butcher has fallen at our feet, by our hands. The time has come for us to save our land from Jack's power. Mourn our fallen comrades, and then prepare. For our next battle will be our last! When we will storm Jack of Blades' fortress, and he will watch as we tear down its walls around him!"

As the crowd dispersed, Beck approached the hero.

"Your gaining a knack for these speeches Sparrow," he commented, Sparrow just grunted in response. "What shall we do now?" The hero paused for a moment to think about it.

"Gather the others," Sparrow said, "tell them we can discuss our last move soon. I just need to take a minute alone to think about things." Sparrow reached for his belt and held his Seal, allowing the blue light to engulf him and take him away.

* * *

The vacant Sanctuary was a welcomed spot for the hero. It's silence becoming music to his ears.

Sparrow rested against the map, eying the spot of the Tempest Will. The place was treacherous, how he could expect to march an army through such a terrain was beyond him. A large number of casualties will occur from just that. But he saw no other way.

"How has the army been?" Theresa's voice broke Sparrow's train of thought. He looked up to see the Seeress looking expectantly at him.

"Wonderful," Sparrow answered, "as it turns out, our war will be lost due to transportation issues, not monsters from Voids are anything like that." His tone rose to anger for a moment but he was quick to suppress it. "I just don't see a way to get through the Tempest Will without risking all of our men. Going by foot will be suicide for some of them. And using a rift is out of the question, even if it did work, the chances of it harming any of the men are too great." He heaved a sigh as he continued to look at the map.

"Sparrow," Theresa said, taking a step toward the hero, "I have something for you." Sparrow looked up at the gypsy confused.

"What?"

"There has been something I've saved these past few years, something I knew would become useful to you." She held out her arm to him. "Take my hand Sparrow." Though he had grown accustomed to the gesture, Sparrow couldn't help but hesitate for a moment before he grabbed her hand. In a flash of light they both vanished.

* * *

Thin air and salty winds were what Sparrow felt next. He looked around at his new surroundings. A vast sea was expanded before him, not a single mark of land could be seen. The hero almost slipped as he noticed his footing was scarce, hardly enough room for him to stand straight.

It was then he felt a familiar sensation shake throughout his body, a heavy shudder that vibrated down to his core. The feeling like he was standing on a pulsing heart.

Sparrow looked down to see what he was standing on, a large tower that expanded in diameter as it came closer to the ground, it's black stone walls giving a sense of foreboding. The Tattered Spire.

Having been years since his last visit to the accursed tower, the constant pulse of the Spire's energy shook into his body the same way it did the first time he stepped foot onto it's surface. Theresa stood at it's center, though the center lacked a flooring, it didn't stop the gypsy. She appeared to be standing on the air itself, like an invisible floor that only she could see.

"Why are we here?" Sparrow asked, he could only assume Theresa knew of his hatred for the Spire.

But the gypsy didn't answer, merely turning away from him. Before he could push the question, she raised her hands over the waters. Sparrow hadn't the faintest idea of what to expect, but he could feel that something was coming. Then he saw it. Large black shapes rising up around them. Each triangular in shape, with a flat top and pointed bottom. Their black, stony surfaces was the same as the Spire itself.

Sparrow knew full well what they were, weapons created through the power of the Spire itself, weapons used by Lucien to hunt him down across Albion, Spire Shards. The hero tried taking a step backward, almost forgetting his current location, catching himself as his heel almost left the side of were he stood. Theresa noticed his reaction and smiled.

"You didn't think you destroyed them all did you?" Sparrow could only shake his head as he looked at them all. There were two Great Shards, and over a dozen smaller ones. "While I have no use for them, I'm certain they would be beneficial for your upcoming attack."

"Theresa... I-I..." Sparrow tried saying, finding himself at a complete loss for words.

"Just promise me you will defeat Jack once and for all Sparrow. This world has suffered from him for too long, for far too many times."

"I will Theresa, and thank you," Sparrow said, giving a small bow to show his gratitude. The Seeress gave a nod and waved her hand before him. With that instant, the usual bright blue light swallowed the hero up and he vanished.

**A/N: Happy Day After Memorial Day! Obviously the best day of the year, for obviously obvious reasons.**

**Anyway, chapter is done. Getting ever so closer to the final battle. The conflict that will decide the fate of not just Albion, but the end of this Fanfic! Muwahahahahaha!**

**So as usual, hope everyone is enjoying everything, so on and so forth.**


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter: 30**

"Now I _know_ you are crazy," Reaver said, wide eyed as he stared at the Spire Shard floating in front of him.

"What's wrong with you this time?" Sparrow asked, having just explained the reason for the Shards.

"You may not of had to deal with being trapped in these things, but I certainly remember it. Spacious as you could imagine, but such a horrible feeling hanging over your shoulder the entire time, a terrible way to travel. And I doubt the others will have any better feelings for them."

Sparrow had thought about that. Though Theresa's idea to use the Shards was brilliant, it didn't take away from the mindset his soldiers would have on the ancient weapons. Much of the army consisted of citizens who had to live in fear of the black Shards taking themselves or loved ones away to be put to slavery. Some even being freed slaves, and the hero had his doubts that any of them had forgotten what it was like to be shackled and transported to the Spire in such a way.

"Regardless of how they may feel Reaver, we can't throw away such an advantage. And using their transportation abilities is the best way for us to enter the Tempest Will." Reaver just shook his head, remaining unconvinced. "Let's just go over our plan, shall we?" Sparrow ushered the marksman into their tent. Beck, Swift, Jasper, Derek and Sabine were already talking amongst themselves, standing around the map of Albion.

"Ah, there you are Sparrow," Sabine said, noticing the two heroes enter, "let's discuss how we're going to take down that masked fool. My people have been craving the chance."

"The time is almost right Sabine, we just need to make sure we have our plan figured out. An army is only as good as it's coordination." Sparrow pointed to a spot on the map, it's area being darkened and gray. "We know that Jack's fortress is in the Tempest. Though we don't have an exact location, the Crater is the most likely choice."

"So we will use the Shards to fly around them and attack from behind," Beck questioned, attempting to figure out the plan. Sparrow shook his head.

"No, we will approach as we normally would, directly through the front." A noticeable look of surprise crossed the others as they heard his plan.

"What?" Swift asked in shock, "With the shards we can easily maneuver around them for a surprise attack."

"Any other way would leave us too vulnerable," Sparrow said defiantly, "from behind would make it too easy for reinforcements nearer to the entrance to surprise us. Coming in to the center could allow them to rush us and we would be overwhelmed in seconds. If we start from the entrance and pick our way through, it will only leave the forces at the fortress itself to deal with." The men could see the wisdom in the plan, figuring it was their best option.

"Now," Sparrow continued, "Reaver and Swift, you both will command the marksmen. I want all of you covering the back, aim for the Zealots and make every shot count." A noticeable 'pfft' sound came from Reaver to show his displeasure with the assignment.

"Don't attempt to compare me to any other Sparrow," the pirate said, giving a glance to Swift, "especially not with this loony."

"Ha!" Swift replied loudly, "I'm surprised your even fighting, figured you'd be too afraid to get those fancy women's garments dirty." Reaver gave a sneer in response, but was quick to brush the reaction away. Sparrow waited a moment for the tension to ease before returning to what he was saying.

"The melee will of course take the front, their main focus will be the Minions. The Great shards will be used to attack the fortress directly, weakening it's gates to allow us through and taking out anyone outside the walls before they can aid the troops on the ground. The smaller Shards will cover the front and the center, providing support against their forces. After the outside forces are taken care of, you will slowly enter the fortress and clear it out of anyone else." Beck overheard an odd comment from the hero and interrupted him.

"Uh, Sparrow, you said _we_ will enter the fortress after our fighting. Don't you mean yourself as well?" Sparrow gave a heavy sigh before looking at the ex-sheriff.

"As much as I want to fight with the rest of you on the battlefield, I can only offer my own strength until we are certain the gates to the fortress are open. After that, I will need to go in myself and find whatever way I can to enter the Void and find Jack. If he falls then it should at least cut off the Zealots aid from the Minions." A smile crossed the hero's face as he looked at the men before him. "For that, I trust the three of you, Walter, Derek, Sabine, to lead the ground forces." Beck and Derek both let their mouths gape open, hardly able to believe what they heard.

"You can't be serious," Beck protested.

"I'm very serious," Sparrow responded, smiling slyly, "I wouldn't have anyone else. And I suppose you would want to have someone go in your place Sabine?" The aging man laughed at the hero.

"Oh no, I have no intention on skipping out on this. I will be with my people, as any leader should." Sparrow gave a satisfied nod. With nothing else to discuss, they departed to explain to their men what to do. As Jasper left with them, a hand held his shoulder and forced him to stop.

"Jasper," Sparrow started, "I can tell that you wouldn't want to take part in this final assault." Jasper's face paled slightly at the notion before he shook his head.

"You would be right Sparrow, I know I wouldn't be much help."

"Maybe not in combat, but I do have an important task for you, that will be explained later." Jasper showed that he understood and they both walked out of the tent to face their army.

Sparrow watched as everyone made their final preparations. Thick with excitement, he could see it in the faces of his men.

The hero looked back on what had happened from beginning to end. All that was gained, and all that was lost. Sparrow's thoughts were broken as a firm hand gripped his shoulder. He turned to see a tall man in a blue hooded robe standing behind him.

"Scythe?" Sparrow hadn't expected to see the ancient warrior. "What are you doing here?"

"To help finish this," he said, looking about the camp as though to judge it, "the last time I did nothing, he then returned a year later with even more power. I will not allow for him to slip away."

"Well I'm glad to have you aboard," Sparrow replied with a smirk, "just make sure to keep that hood on. Wouldn't want your appearance spooking my men." Scythe scoffed at the comment but understood.

It only took a few hours for the army to be ready. Beck approached the hero giving the news.

"This is it, isn't it," Beck said, watching with Sparrow at how their soldiers had done.

"Yes, they all know it too. And I'm sure Jack knows it as well."

"Well then, would the great Lionheart mind giving our men one last encouraging speech?" Beck's voice hinted to excitement, causing the hero to chuckle.

"I suppose that can be arranged."

Everyone waited and listened as Sparrow stood up in front of them all, his smirk showing clearly to them.

"This is it. Everything we have worked for, everything we have fought for, it has all led to this. Today we make history, the people of Albion rising to defeat an evil that has no age. While I've helped to fight for our land, I would continually fall to the feelings of despair. I would doubt myself and think I couldn't win.

"Hundreds of years ago, the citizens of Albion didn't need to fear evil attacking them. The heroes and their Guild stood against any and all threats. But after a time, the citizens decided they no longer needed their protection. That day, the Guild was destroyed and the heroes fell. But today, the enemy of heroes, of all mortals, will be defeated by the very people he sees as having no threat. This war for Albion will not be won by heroes, it will be won by it's people.

"Though I've doubted myself, you never have. Despite the overwhelming odds that have been put against us, you have overcome them and proven that Albion no longer needs the aid of heroes to defend it. As you face your enemy, remember why you fight. Remember everything that has happened, everything that has been gained, and everything that has been lost. Do that, and not even Jack of Blades will stop you!"

As their excitement grew, Sparrow gave the order for them to begin and enter the Spires. The hero noticed his dog barking in anticipation as well. He knelled down and scratched him behind the ears.

"I'm sorry boy, but you can't come with me," the dog whimpered but Sparrow was unmoved, "It's too dangerous for you. You'll be safer here." Sparrow called out to Jasper, who obeyed and ran to him.

"Yes Sparrow?"

"Alright Jasper," Sparrow started, "your task is simple, but very important. You must go to Bowerstone, take my dog with you, find Lord Fendier and tell of our progress. And tell him, that this war is ending."

**A/N: Return of the Court has hit the thirties, yay... **

**Anyway, I know this chapter is short. But I wanted to end it off here to have the next chapter start with their last battle starting off. The beginning of the end as that old chestnut goes. **

**So only a little more ways to go. Exciting ain't it... So, as usual, I shall repeat myself in saying I hope everyone is still enjoying the fic, next chapter is on its way.**


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter: 31**

All around the hero, the ground was black, jagged mountains rose irregularly from the surface, the skies light-less, and the air tainted. The Tempest Will lived up to it's stories.

The Spire Shards flew across the skies over the decimated surface of Albion's scarred region. Atop one of the Great Shards was Sparrow. He kept his eyes opened only to small slits, the gale force winds threatening to throw him off his perch.

Miles off in the distance, bright blue streaks broke the blackness and shot downward, a titanic boom following behind. Even with the distance between them, Sparrow could still feel the intense heat the lightning gave off.

The air around them was never allowed a chance to sit still. A constant wind pattern came from every possible direction, cutting into the hero's bones with a chill that would make Mistpeak envious.

Chunks of black rock floated around them, taking much of Sparrow's concentration to weave the Shards through the debris.

Their formation was of the Great Shards leading as the smaller followed close. Across from the hero he could see Scythe standing on his own. The undead man's robes looked calm and unaffected, even in the chaotic winds that blew around him.

Sparrow turned his gaze backward, seeing the large pillars of smoke twisting up high over the lands, what was left of the encampments the Zealots formed at the Tempest's entrance. Destroying them had been easy, hardly needing ground forces for but a few, the Shards decimated most of their numbers. The Zealots at the fortress were sure to notice it and be aware of their was sure Jack knew of their coming already, subtlety didn't matter anymore.

"_Pay attention_," Scythe's echoed voice barked into his mind, "_it would be foolish_ t_o have our army fall due to your own wandering._" It had surprised the hero the first time he realized the cloaked guardian could speak through his Seal. Though the action itself wasn't new to him, Theresa using the ability to guide him on his travels, it felt odd to have a stranger's voice in his head.

But Sparrow ignored his uneasiness on the topic, needing a clear head to focus on traversing the dangerous terrain. Their job being not only to control the Shards through the rock littered skies of the Tempest Will, but to stop and redirect any and all bolts of lightening that tried taking advantage of their elevated positions.

They soon came upon the largest section of mountain in the area, it stretched onward and curved outward. It was the Crater, the very center of the Tempest Will. The site were the ritual was held that created the horrid place around them.

The Shards went up higher to go over the rocky slope. When they reached over the mountains, Sparrow could see it all.

The Crater was much like a large bowl in shape. Dipping downward as it neared the center, the mountain around it serving as a wall that circled the entire perimeter.

At the far end of the Crater a fortress overlooked them all. It was massive, towering over everything else, the most dominating thing Sparrow had ever saw. The walls were a black steel that were pointed, spikes of different sizes and shapes protruded from every angle. Truly a den of evil.

The front of the fortress was where their enemies were. A vast army of Zealots and Minions alike grouped together., waiting for them.

Sparrow moved the Spires down toward the ground. As soon as they were close enough, the Spires shot a crackle of white electricity forward. From the ends of the each strand, their own army started forming. They matched the numbers of their enemies and kept growing.

Everything went still for a moment, a calm that appeared as both armies stood before the other. Beck stood at the front of their own, ready to end it all. As it began to feel as though the tension would snap on its own, Beck gave the order and they began.

The army of Albion charged forward, their swords were drawn and their eyes were dead set on their opponents. Zealots already began to fall as their marksmen aimed and fired. But that didn't slow down their enemies, the Minions and cultists charged as well, each wielding the power their master had given them.

Sounds of clanging metal, firing rifles, and the battle cries of the opposing forces, dominated everything else. Sparrow allowed a moment to look at his men with pride, they fought as though they were heroes themselves. But he knew the battle was hardly beginning. Leaving the smaller Shards behind, Sparrow moved the Great Shards closer to the fortress.

Immediately, a hailstorm of bullets and magical strikes came from the Zealots and Minions at the base of the fortress. Sparrow was able to move himself away well enough to be missed by most of the attacks. Scythe jumped from the towering construct and fell down with a mighty force. The deathly man crashed hard against two Zealots, his namesake impacting the ground and cratering the area around him.

With the freed Shard, the top split open, different pieces of the weapon floating in the air. The sky lit up as the air around it was sucked inward. A beam of light flashed down on a cluster of Minions, only a scorched ground and pieces of stone armor were left.

Sparrow followed Scythe's actions and landed just before the mighty fortress. It's dark gates were as tall as the tower in Skyreach, but it did nothing to stop Sparrow's determination. While he and Scythe dealt with the remaining forces at the fortress' gates, the Great Shards laid siege to the fortress itself. The cheers could be heard from the battlefield as the soldiers could see the attacks directly on their enemies' home.

When the base was cleared of opposition, Sparrow readied himself and forced the Great Shard forward. It sped through the air and crashed into the gates. The resulting explosion was tremendous, sending a shock wave that trembled the entirety of the Tempest Will. Then the Gates fell, they cracked and crumbled into nothing in front of the hero, leaving an inviting entrance for Sparrow to finish their battle.

Beck watched as Sparrow and Scythe disappeared into the fortress. His heart raced with excitement as he saw their current success with their battle. But it all started to change as he saw a figure walking out of the mass of fighters toward him. Seeing the figure shot a cold grip of fear through him, seeing someone who should be long dead.

Xaven looked just the way he did the last time the ex-sheriff had seen him. Not a single mark on him showed evidence of a defeat, a death, or a loss. A new pair of swords dangled at his sides, ready to drip with fresh blood.

"Good to see you again Walter," Xaven said calmly, as though the chaotic battle happening around them didn't exist. Beck was too dumbfounded to speak, his eyes just starring wide at the man. "You look surprised."

"I-I watched you die," Beck said, finally finding his voice, "I watched Sparrow kill you." Xaven laughed at the statement as if it was a joke.

"Your continuing ignorance is an amusement. I have spoken on the Master's treatment to me. As his power exists, if I should somehow fall, I will return again and again. Though after my last defeat, my strength hasn't fully returned, but it is more then enough to deal with the likes of you."

Beck's expression of shock shifted to anger. He didn't care how powerful the man was, Sparrow had put his fullest trust into him, he wouldn't fail his friend. With a mighty yell, Beck grabbed his sword and both himself and Xaven charged.

* * *

The halls of Jack's fortress were just as impressive as the outside. The ceiling could hardly be seen from it's height, chandeliers of dark blue flames dangled over them to light their path. Rooms and branching hallways crisscrossed from each direction.

Only a few guards attempted to block their way through the fortress, none lasting for very long.

"Where would he keep Hammer and Garth?" Sparrow asked as he and Scythe ran from hall to hall.

"Jack would most likely keep them with him in the Void, a way to keep his eyes on them and weaken their power." A large group of Minions stood guard at a set of doors as large as the front gates. Sparrow and Scythe both dove into them and easily brought the monsters down. The hero had to give the living corpse credit. Though his age was obvious, Scythe held great power.

The guarded doors were locked, but a powerful enough force spell shattered their stone barrier and allowed them to pass through.

From the doors, the room appeared like a cathedral. Akin to the Sanctuary of the Heroes Guild but on a much larger scale. At the far side of the room sat an alter, a stone statue of Jack standing over it against the wall. On the alter itself was a black crystal, it appeared to be floating atop it, with no visible stand for it.

An eerie familiarity was held with the crystal. Standing near it, Sparrow could feel a heavy pulsing, reminding him of the beating the Spire gave.

Sparrow reached out to grab it. As soon as his fingers gripped the object, a powerful surge shot into his arm. The mark Scythe had given him began to burn, the feeling as though his skin was being torn off prickled across his body. Within an instant the surge stopped and Sparrow felt a force leaving his body. It moved and took form before them both. In front of them was a portal, similar to the ones he could create himself.

The hero moved forward to enter the opening. But Scythe's hand grabbed onto his shoulder to stop him.

"Sparrow," he said with a hint of worry that shocked the hero, "you must enter the Void alone. I am not fit enough to last in it's accursed depths. But you must listen to me, you cannot defeat Jack in his own world. Find him and tear him away from the place. The longer you spend in the Void, the more risk you give yourself, it is a dangerous place."

"I still need to find my friends," Sparrow said defiantly. Scythe removed his hood, showing a piercing glare.

"You must consider leaving them behind. They can offer no help for you now, they will only hinder your progress." It was Sparrow's turn for a glare as he heard what he was saying.

"I won't condemn them like that! They are my friends, leaving them is out of the question!" Scythe's anger tipped for a moment, the undead man grabbed Sparrow by the front of his shirt to bring him closer.

"You still have no idea of what can happen when you attempt foolish heroism in the face of this evil." Sparrow didn't say a word, only raising his hand up to brush Scythe's own away. His glare didn't leave him as he ran into the opened portal.

* * *

Sparks flew in all directions as Beck and Xaven fought on. Their blades swung with enough force to create a small breeze as they passed.

"You can't win," Xaven jeered while their blades locked, "you and your army will fall. This fragmented land will be remade under one powerful figure, there is nothing you can do to stop it."

"Your too quick to doubt your own kind," Beck retorted, his eyes as sharp as his blade. They disengaged, Beck ran backward and used his pistol to fire at the man. Xaven dodged the shots and ran forward at him. "We have pulled through all obstacles your so called Master has set for us," Beck shouted as he ducked to dodge the swings coming for him."

"The saddest part of this all is your continued ignorance of what you believe," Xaven said as he attempted another swing. "Your words of faith and strength have been spoken by far superior men, men who have all fallen by Jack's power. Your cause is hopeless." Beck let out a yell of blind rage as he charged into Xaven. A barrage of furious swings slammed against the Zealot's blades, forcing him backward.

"Nothing is hopeless," Beck shouted as he continued to strike, "it was what the old heroes stood for, it is what they taught! I've seen first hand what can be accomplished if you believe enough to fight for it. And no one, not even an ageless demon, can stop that!" Another blow caused the zealot leader to stumble and Beck made one last swing.

Xaven fell backward, clutching at the wound in his chest. A large slice was made into his chest, as deep as it could have been. Blood flowed freely from it like a pristine waterfall. While Xaven tried to speak, all the noise he made was a rasped cough. Rather then air leaving his mouth, a gush of blood came out. Beck stood over him, readying to deliver an ending blow. Xaven's eyes slowly drifted shut, as they did a smile cracked over his blood stained lips. Reaching down to his hip, he removed a small dagger and wiped the blood from his mouth.

"I... can see the Master, I-I... can see it ending... Watch for yourself Walter... watch as your world _dies_," Xaven gave a weak laugh just before he ran the knife across his throat. Another gagged choke was all he made before the zealot fell silent.

Beck shook his head in disgust, sheathing his sword. The sounds of their battle were still going on around him, but they had begun to soften, he looked to see that their victory was coming. Beck took a moment to catch his breath, he closed his eyes to steady his mind. But when he did, it shocked him.

When Beck closed his eyes, he could see what Xaven had meant, he could see it all.

**A/N: Yay, a new chapter. I know, I know, I'm a bit late with this update. Just had a bit of personal things going on, things that are fine now and getting better. Though I don't need to get into detail.**

**Anyway, the final battle has started, and it's still a goin. Getting closer and closer to that ending, can almost taste the completeness. Like tasting the dough before you make the cookie, mmmmm.**

**So as usual, I'll end this by repeating myself. Hope everyone is still enjoying everything and are becoming excited for more.**


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter: 32**

Sparrow stepped out of the dark portal and into it's destination. A hacking cough came from the hero as soon as he took his first breath. His throat feeling as though he had tried gargling hot coals.

The hero looked around at his destination. Even though he had never seen it before, it was obvious in an instant that he was in the Void. What he could call a sky was just an empty blackness that seemed determined to suck away anything near it into oblivion.

The ground didn't even have it's own existence. A bleak black nothingness. It wasn't dirt, nor was it stone. Sparrow couldn't understand what it was, just something he could stand on.

It was all he saw, the sky and ground both blended together. Unable for anyone to see where one ended and the other began.

Sparrow felt his breathing become forced and painful, becoming harder and harder for his lungs to work. He fell down onto his hands and knees, the feeling of a great weight being dropped onto him. The hero's heart pounded and his eyes blurred as his body began to ache. The world around him seemed to spin and twist, sending a sickening sensation to the pit of his stomach.

What Scythe had warned was happening. The Void didn't welcome mortals very well. The hero completely collapsed as the feeling of a slow death took over. As it became difficult to think clearly, Sparrow's thoughts turned to his friends, his soldiers. All who were counting on him, people who believed in him and held an unwavering faith. Sparrow knew he couldn't fail them.

Forcing his body up, Sparrow fought back against the Voids onslaught. A tremor of shakes came about his body as he stood fully upwards, but he ignored it all.

Deep, heavy breaths were taken while Sparrow caught his bearings. Though the strain was still there, Sparrow willed himself through it. But he knew he would not last long in such a forsaken place. He would have to find Jack and somehow bring him back to Albion.

Scanning the area, Sparrow tried to find where he should go. It was all just a vast emptiness with no true end in sight. Only a simple dot that was slightly darker then it's background could be seen, and the hero wasn't fully sure it wasn't just a trick of his sight. Regardless of it though, Sparrow moved toward it.

During the trek, a chill formed into the hero. Like his bones had turned to ice, freezing him from the inside out. Even his hearing was being effected. Continuously, an inaudible sound could be heard around him. Like voices whispering in his ear, close enough to be heard, but far enough away so he couldn't understand them. But Sparrow put it out of mind as he made sure to not allow the place to get to him.

The dot grew larger and larger, changing shape from a simple blob and gaining more defined features. It didn't take long for him to be standing before it. Another fortress, like the one he had just entered. It's style and architecture was exactly like the one in the Tempest, though a much larger scale. Almost twice the size as it's counterpart.

Sparrow stood at the base of the large gates. Taking a moment, the hero took a deep breath and placed a hand on Avo's Tear, it's soft melody soothed his mind bringing clarity. The gates were opened with little effort, taking his first steps through it, Sparrow could see the branching hallways and multiple chambers.

Much of it was still the same, though as he looked at the different rooms, it seemed to be more akin to a castle then a fortress of war.

Running through the corridors, Sparrow tried his best at remaining silent. Many rooms held monstrous creatures that he had no intention on fighting if it could be avoided. Thoughts of his soldiers crossed his mind, wanting to know their progress. But he shook the thoughts away, keeping his faith in his men.

Sparrow searched and searched, trying to locate any sort of prison that would house Hammer and Garth. Nothing could be found, causing the hero to start worrying. Jack would just have to be forced into compliance for their location.

As the hero crossed the different paths, he started feeling a dark power growing around him. Following it like a trail, it led him to a large set of doors. Just standing near them, Sparrow could feel a powerful aura emanating from whatever was on the other side. Tightening a hand around his sword, Sparrow charged in and burst through the doors.

It was a large, open room. Pillars rising up at the sides, a carpet stretched at his feet going forward into the room, draperies hung on the walls, it looked like a throne room. At the far end was a large platform, a set of stairs grew upward to it's top. There, a throne stood, and sitting on the throne was a man wearing black armor and a white mask.

"Jack!" Sparrow shouted upon seeing the demon.

"Ah," Jack replied in amusement, "so good of you to visit hero."

"Where are they?" the hero demanded, "Where are Garth and Hammer?"

"In due time. Please tell me though, what is it that brought you here?" The pointless question just brought more anger to the hero. Jack however didn't wait for an answer. "Is it to protect your little world? Save the people heroes are meant to protect? Or perhaps... it's something much darker."

"What do you mean?" Sparrow asked, his anger not lessening.

"I've seen the way you've fought my men, the way you've slaughtered them. You experienced so much joy when you spilled their blood. Attempting to gain vengeance for what has happened, for what has been taken from you. Not at all worried about doing it for Albion, or even your still living friends."

"That's a lie," Sparrow spat.

"Is it?" Jack asked in a mocking tone. "This may come as a surprise to you, hero, but we share many qualities. So much determination, so much blood lust. Even now, you use the power of the Court to reach me, no doubt gained from that fool hardy shell of a man." Almost absentmindedly, Sparrow clutched at his arm were his mark had been made.

"But despite how you've acted, I still see your flawed mortality. All of your kind wear it on your sleeves, almost proudly. I had always tried to see what it is that was truly wrong with you mortals. Now, it's all too clear."

"And what would that be?" Though Sparrow didn't enjoy humoring the monster, it allowed him to slowly build his energy to attempt a surprise attack. Jack leaned forward in his throne as his eyes darkened.

"You never learn anything." It was an odd answer, something the hero didn't understand, Jack could see the confusion too. "Experience and failures are only good teachers when the students remember the lesson. I've seen enough of you mortals to notice your inability to learn from any of your mistakes. Constantly repeating them throughout your history. Do you honestly believe you are the first mortal to challenge me? The first to enter my realm? Your petty heroism is a never changing act of bravado. It's as if you mortals are incapable of it... Being doomed by your so called gods into following the same paths of destruction. Even the heroes were never sparred the same fate. You aren't the first whose loved ones I've taken, leading to an anger fueled scheme for revenge. But no matter how many times it happens, knowing their existence is gone and seeing the cries of despair following afterward, always brings amusement to me. The same amusement I felt as you watched your own loved ones die because of your own actions."

It was all Sparrow could take. A scream was all he let out before holding out his sword and running up at Jack. While charging the stairs, he looked into Jack's mask, locking onto his eyes.

"I've beaten your Knight _and_ your Queen," Sparrow shouted, "you will be just as easy!" The hero swung his sword and it clanged against metal. His eyes broke from their intensity as they widened. Jack's arm was raised, it was the only action he made. His plated arm blocking the blade with ease, as if the attack had come from a novice. Hardly having the time to fully react, Jack's other arm swung outward, striking Sparrow and throwing him off of the platform.

Landing hard against the floor, he was too stunned to get up instantaneously. As he regained his senses, he quickly grabbed for his sword that was laying beside him. He looked up at Jack, having not left the seat of his throne, a powerful look about him. His attack was so simple, hardly any effort put into it. Yet Jack's blow on him left a lasting pain. None of it made sense to the hero. Jack shouldn't be that strong, even with the Void's draining effect on the hero.

"This... this is impossible," Sparrow said as he looked up at Jack, his eyes wide, "I know the Queen was the strongest of the Court, I beat her. You can't possibly be that powerful!" Jack just looked down on him, looking at him like he were an ant waiting to be crushed. Then he laughed, a deep maniacal laugh that echoed across the large throne room.

"Do you not wonder how you've gotten here so easily? How such little effort was needed to enter my realm? I wanted you here to see the fruits of your work. Look upon me now hero, what do you see?" Sparrow did look, not knowing what he should be seeing, but it didn't take long. On the forehead of Jack's mask. Two black runes, each giving off a dark glow and black aura that looked like they were on fire. Sparrow recognized the symbols as the ones that were on the masks of the Knight and Queen when they died.

"Those marks..." the hero said, raising a finger to them.

"All that is now left of the Court," Jack said proudly, "I must truly thank you Sparrow, you've played your part all too well."

"I... I don't-"

"Unlike you mortals," Jack said, fully standing from his throne, "I make sure what mistakes I make are corrected. And from what I've always seen, you heroes gain the upper hand quickly. Always a trick up your sleeves. I knew that once I came back here. I knew you would find some way to go against my power." Sparrow's eyes drifted to Avo's tear, even in the Void, the blade looked as pure as ever.

"Ah yes, that sword was in fact used against me once before... So bringing back the Court was the only logical choice. And I took the necessary steps, to were even if you managed to defeat them, you would still doom yourself, and your people.." Something then clicked in Sparrow's mind, like a thick fog in his mind had drifted away, as if he was beginning to piece together what Jack was talking about. Sparrow stared dumbfounded at Jack.

"You, you didn't..." Jack slowly nodded his head, "so you... brought back the Court, to-"

"To either destroy you and rule this world, or give me the power I needed to forever handle anything you heroes could muster." Jack raised his arms up, a dark power poured out of him. Sparrow stepped back as it flew around the room and past him. Howling like a banshie. "Before bringing them back, I made sure that if they should fall, I would gain what they lost. Now their power, is my power." Jack's eyes then intensified, staring down at the hero with a look of pure hatred.

"You have no idea of what it was like hero. Underneath that wretched Queen. The Knight was a lapdog to her, and I had to follow as well. They never embraced what I knew, what I could do. Then when Black came, he killed us all. But unlike the rest of them, _I_ was prepared. When I came back to your own world, I knew it was possible to fail once again. So I made sure that wouldn't happen. The spell I placed on them before their recreation made sure their power would transfer to me should they be struck down."

"But, why not just do it yourself?" Sparrow questioned, showing the flaws in Jack's idea.

"Ah, but even we had our laws, our own rules. I was prohibited on acting against one of my own. But I knew you would attempt to stop us, maybe even find a way to destroy them. And you did, increasing my own power without knowing. Killing off your wife and friend was merely a bonus." The hero fell to his knees, his own shock and the pains of the Void pushing him down. "You have failed hero. No matter what you think you have accomplished, it was all for naught."

The overwhelming sense of hopelessness was clear on the hero. He only sat there in defeat. Hearing Jack's words, he wanted to refuse them, to say that the demon was wrong. But he knew he was only fooling himself. Sparrow had lost from the beginning, he had no chance to win, so he accepted it. But his eyes focused into a glare as he looked up at Jack. Even though he had failed Albion, he wouldn't fail his friends.

"Fine," he said, causing Jack to look at him intriguingly, "you've won Jack. But you can't keep my friends here. Release them, now! It's me you want. Release them and I will submit." Jack's look of interest on the hero didn't falter, for a few moments, he did nothing else. But then the demon gave an amused huff and raised a hand up. A powerful tremor shook the room, sounds of grinding stone filled the air.

Two platforms lowered from the unnoticeable ceiling. Black chains were attached to each, binding their passengers. The platforms floated and stopped near Jack, one on each of his sides. It was Hammer and Garth, their hands and feet bound by the chains. They looked ill and weak. Both of them appeared unconscious, but after a moment their heads stirred. Hammer and Garth's eyes focused on their friend below them.

"Sparrow..." Hammer said, her eyelids fluttered as they struggled to stay fully opened, "you, you need to leave, please run."

"Listen to her Sparrow..." Garth continued, his voice sounding just as weak and forced as hers.

"Don't worry, you're going to be okay" Sparrow said to both of them, "Okay Jack, release them!" Jack's gaze never left the hero as he made his demands.

"Don't worry," he said, mimicking the hero in a mocking tone, "I will release them..."

**A/N: Well... heres ya go...**

**So yeah, this one took a bit longer then it should have. Nobodies fault but my own. Not really because of any issues, nothing out of the norm. I suppose laziness and... writers block? Maybe just laziness. Whenever I would want to work on this, time passes in nano-seconds, it's insane...**

**My only thought would be since it's so close to completion, I'm mentally sabotaging myself so I won't get it done... That would suck...**

**But regardless of my own mental instabilities, I am at least happy a new chapter is up. Hopefully I can finish the future chapters off quickly enough. **

**So as usual, hope you peoples are enjoying everything. More "soon" to come.**


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter: 33**

Sparrow had made it clear. For him to lay down his sword and submit to Jack, and in freeing his friends in return. It destroyed him to give up so easily, but he had no other choice.

"Now Jack," the hero demanded. With only a simple nod, Jack waved a hand over the platforms supporting the heroes. The chains that were binding them glowed then shattered, Garth's and Hammer's bodies slumped and started to fall. But they soon stopped in the air and were held upward.

Jack's hands were raised up, holding their bodies.

"The last of the heroes," Jack murmured, "minus that foolish boy who sold himself long ago, but his time will come soon enough. Such a far cry from it's original power, so much has been wasted on mortals. You _will_ be released, but not into my new world."

Jack's hands slowly straightened, a black glow illuminating their appearance. He brought both Hammer and Garth closer. Holding out his arms, he thrust his hands forward, sinking them into their flesh.

"I release them through death," Jack shouted as he laughed. Sparrow watched in horror, hearing a cry of pain escape both of his friends. While Jack continued laughing, he swept his arm outward, causing a force to throw the heroes off their platforms.

Both of their bodies crashed to the floor at Sparrow's feet. The hero's body trembled as he looked at his friends. Unable to stand, he fell to his knees, Jack's laughter echoed again and again in his mind.

Sparrow held his hands over them both, he knew one of the most powerful healing spells created by heroes. With all of his power, he forced the spell to both of them. Nothing happened, their wounds wouldn't heal, but Sparrow didn't dare stop.

"Please work," he said, his desperation growing by the second, "you can't be gone." Sparrow had lost too many people to Jack already, he wasn't going to let them go. But the spell didn't work, and with each second, he could feel his own power wasting away.

"S-sparrow," a voice called. Two hands grabbed his own, Sparrow looked and saw both his friends looking weakly at him.

"Sparrow... you must stop Jack," Hammer said, Sparrow could feel her grip weakening.

"I-I can't," Sparrow replied, "Jack is too strong, even for a hero, there is nothing I can do."

"No," Garth said firmly, his good eye looking at the hero with an intensity he had never seen before. "This war... it was never about the heroes against the Court, it was Albion... Albion's people..."

"They all hope and pray for you Sparrow," Hammer said, her voice began to fade rapidly.

"And not just them," Garth added, "can you not hear them? Hear the whispers? They call out here, the ones fallen to the Court..."

Sparrow noticed something change, Jack's own laughter had lowered, but not from him stopping. It was what he had heard as he went through the Void. The whispers that he couldn't understand had become louder. But now, he could understand them. He understood what they were, people, cries for help and vengeance that permanently echoed across the Void. Spirits who had died from the madness of Jack. And Sparrow could feel them, all of them pushing for him to win, giving all they could.

"You brought the people of Albion together... all of Albion is praying for you. Now the dead as well, of both heroes and citizens. Their cries are endless... and will not falter until this is finally over. The only one who can finish it... is you Sparrow."

"But... Garth," Sparrow said slowly, "there is nothing else I can do. I have no more power... no more chances." For just a moment, the hero saw a smile cross the old magician's face.

"Sparrow... remember... you are the fourth. _You_ are meant to bring us together. Not just the three of us... not just the heroes... but _everyone_." Sparrow felt the grips of his friends tighten. "Just like against Lucien... our power can transfer... but now, we no longer have use for it..." A surge of energy shot into Sparrow's hands. Hammer's arm started to glow a bright blue, while Garth's glowed red. "You won't have to fight alone Sparrow... now stop Jack, and finish what has been started years ago..."

As Garth finished, his eyes slowly shut, followed by Hammer's. Sparrow lowered his head, it was then, that he felt truly alone.

The surge of power faded, but the whispering stayed. Sparrow couldn't shake away the noise from his senses. But he pushed it aside, the rush of a new found power helping for it.

Jack's own laughter had stopped. The demon didn't even seem to notice what all had happened.

"Now," Jack said, walking down the steps that led to his throne, "with the rabble gone, we can finish this." Sparrow looked down at his friends' bodies, two more people lost to war that Jack had started. The hero knelt before them both one last time, thinking of all of the people who they joined. His anger flared at the thought of all the madness.

"Jack," he shouted, "you bastard!" With a charge, Sparrow swung his sword, the sound of metal on metal rung out again as Jack caught the blade with ease. His other gauntlet lunged forward, gripping onto Sparrow's throat.

"You still think you have a chance," Jack said with a chuckle, "you clearly don't understand when it's over."

"A hero doesn't give up until he either wins or falls," Sparrow spat out, Beck's own words ringing in his mind.

"Correct..." Jack's sinister voice called out as his grip tightened. But Sparrow didn't show any signs of giving, in fact, Jack could see a small smirk growing. The answer was made clear as the hero's free arm swung up, bringing a small dagger into Jack's arm.

The masked demon gave a loud grunt of pain. The dagger Sparrow had taken from Garth's body was pushed as far as it would go. When Jack's focus was broken, Sparrow released the knife and grabbed a hold of Jack's armor.

"Let's even the odds," Sparrow shouted. He pulled Jack forward and ran toward a newly opened portal. Both figures were quickly engulfed in the swirling blackness and disappeared.

* * *

Sparrow crash landed on the ground. Dirt and chips of rock flew everywhere. After taking a moment to gather himself, Sparrow checked his surroundings. He had landed in Bower Lake, Hero Hill and their camp being clear indications to what happened. Dusk started to settle over the area, bringing in a natural darkness.

The hero took in the sight. Feeling the effects of the Void lifting off of him, Sparrow felt his strength rising.

Off in the distance a dark figure stood. They both both stared at each other for a moment. And almost in an instant, Jack was upon the hero.

Sparrow jumped back to dodge a swing from the demon. Garth's blade still stuck into his arm. Noticing it, Jack pulled the knife free.

"Clever move hero," Jack said, staring at the dagger before he tossed it aside, "but no matter if it is in the Void or here, you will not last." Sparrow replied with his sword, running toward Jack and striking at him.

Jack held up his arms, once again blocking the attack. Sparrow kept a forceful push on his blade, keeping Jack's hands occupied.

As they continued to stay locked together, Jack couldn't help but notice the sudden shift in the hero's power. Even noticing its source.

"Ah, yet another surprise from you," he said in amusement, "taking your friend's power as your own? If I didn't know better, I'd say you were _trying_ to follow my example." Sparrow's glare gave the answer to his statement.

"It's the power of Albion Jack," Sparrow said back, "it's not just me who defies you, it's _everyone_!" More swings were made between the both of them. Each time Jack noticed a continuing improvement in the hero. In strength and appearance.

The blue Will lines streaking across the hero's body had expanded. All around him were cracks of a glowing blue, lighting up against the oncoming darkness around them. Even his eyes had changed, losing their natural color and glowing a shining blue. Underneath the hero, the ground slowly cracked, pieces of the earth floated upward and disintegrated as it got higher.

Jack chuckled amusingly at the sight.

"I suppose it was foolish of me to think that there would be no climax to this war. No epic battle that will be heralded throughout the years of this pathetic world. But the meager fight you will give will at least allow a test of my power." Jack allowed his strength to flow outward. Shock waves stretched out in all directions. The ground shattered and was tossed aside. A bellowing wind came with it all, sending a blinding stream of dust around them.

Jack's hands vibrated with a black cloud of thick smoke. It increased more and more until the demon raised a hand up and clutched at the air itself. But rather then forming a fist, it looked as though he had grabbed a hold of an invisible object. The smoke swirled around it and took form.

The hero readied his blade, knowing all too well of what Jack was doing. But Sparrow's eyes soon widened in shock as he saw what was taking shape.

Jack held up the weapon as it fully took its form. It was a sword. A split, double edged sword. It's blade as black as the Void itself, with a blood red hilt. Sparrow looked at the sword in his own hands, the one Jack held was an exact copy. Contrasting only in color and malevolence.

A momentary lapse of fear crossed the hero's face. He knew what the blade was and what it could do.

The Sword of Aeons. The bane of his blood, a slayer of heroes.

"Impossible," Sparrow shouted against the blade, "that sword was destroyed long ago!" Jack just chuckled as he looked at the blade. His eyes ran up and down its razor sharp edge.

"You truly are ignorant," Jack said mockingly, "you claim to grasp the unknown. With no true insight into my power. To me, this is but a simple act." He swung the blade outward, testing it. "But this blade... it still thirsts for the blood of an Archon." Before Sparrow could react fast enough, Jack was again upon him. Swinging the blade down on him. Hardly able to block the attack, Sparrow was thrown to the ground.

"So hero," Jack shouted, "this is it! Our final conflict! And I shall make certain you are the _last_ mortal to defy me! The entirety of this land shall bear witness to the example I make of you!" Sparrow just looked at the demon in confusion, not understanding him. Jack's eyes intensified as he stared down on the hero.

"Close your eyes," he said slowly, "and watch."

Hesitantly, Sparrow did so. At first, all he saw was the permanent darkness he expected. But after a moment, a vision came into view. What he saw was strange to him, looking over an area of land. As the vision became clearer, he saw two figures standing against one another. Jack and himself.

"But... I don't understand," Sparrow said as he reopened his eyes. Jack chuckled at the hero's ignorance.

"Men, women, children, all across this land, every mortal is now looking upon us. Our battle shall be branded into the minds of these fools for all their years to come. They will see you, their greatest champion, beg me for mercy. And they will see you denied!"

Jack then began levitating into the air. Steadily rising up and up.

"There will be no more question of my power! I shall banish any and all doubt from the minds of these mortals who are desperate enough to believe in a dieing race! The Court has had their time and failed! The time of the Archons ended long ago! And now is the end of Heroes! _Now it is my time_!"

Thick dark red tendrils of energy swirled about him, Jack held up his arms and the sky darkened. What was left of the natural light was taken away. Thunderous booms echoed across the sky itself. Then strikes of red lightning began to hit the earth with a ferocity that was unheard of.

"I am Jack of Blades," he shouted, raising his arms high and looking up to the heaven. "I am feared by mortal and god alike!"

Jack held out his arm and clenched his fist. The ground around Sparrow split open. Cracks spread out in every direction, creating large fissures in the earth.

"My power is without equal! This world is _mine_!" Sparrow stood defiantly against Jack. Keeping his ground in the ensuing chaos.

"You'll have to earn it Jack," he shouted up at the demon, his mouth bent into a smirk. Jack's gaze fixed on the hero before slowly coming back to ground level.

"Yes, you are right, let us begin then," Jack said as he held up his black blade.

They both charged forward, each fighter running at the other with all of their speed. When they met, their swords clashed together. The power of their attack shattered the ground around them. A massive crater was forced into the dirt around them.

Again and again they brought their swords together. Not staying in one place for long, they both fought across the area of Bower Lake in a matter of seconds. Each strike they connected damaged and changed the landscape around them. Their power pouring out into the land itself, reshaping it.

All throughout their fighting, Sparrow could hear the whispers growing more and more within his head. And his power increased with it, rising up more and more as he fought.

Jack began using more of his own power. Out of nowhere, large humanoid creatures appeared on the field. Large creatures that seemed to be only made up of white armor. Each carrying a massive sword. But the new creatures didn't last long against the hero. With his array of Will spells, the newcomers were quickly dispatched, being shattered by the hero's power.

The brewing storm high above them continued it's own onslaught to the world. Its thunderous booms matching perfectly to the sounds of the two fighters blades as they clashed together again and again.

Jack then jumped away from his opponent. The demon held up his blackened sword and it began to glow as he poured his power into it. As Sparrow readied to charge after him, Jack raised the blade higher and swung it downward, as if attacking an unseen foe. But the strike did hit something, a large cut appeared in the air itself, as though he had cut a hole in the emptiness.

Before Sparrow could fathom it, the tear grew, it expanded to a massive size. Then Sparrow felt a powerful pull toward the tear. His feet began dragging forward and his own cloths swayed toward it. The hero was not all that was effected, chunks of rock tore from the ground and flew into the hole. Trees bent and leaves flew from the branches.

The black hole consumed everything that flew into it. Sparrow watched as countless rocks and trees entered the swirling maw. The pull became too much for the hero to withstand, his feet gave way and he found himself flying through the air toward the destructive opening.

Thinking quickly, Sparrow stabbed his blade into the ground. A sudden popping came from his shoulder as he jerked to a stop. The vortex still pulling him forward, forced him to put all of his strength into just holding his grip.

Then an idea crossed the hero's mind. Stretching his marked arm toward the tear, he focused on the dark power and released.

A portal opened up next to the rift. The portal then began to move toward the tear. Being sucked in like anything else. But as soon as they touched, both rifts imploded within one another. An explosion resulted in the union, decimating the area around it. The force that was given off threw Sparrow high into the air.

When Sparrow landed, the impact injured his knees heavily. Hardly able to stand, the hero worked in trying to heal the injuries. His guard being down for the moment, he was taken by surprise as Jack flew through the air and down on him, holding his sword high above his head and bringing it down on the hero.

Sparrow held up his sword just in time to block the attack. Jack's swing hammered into him with such a force that Sparrow felt the earth being pushed underneath him.

A loud, furious yell came from Jack. Sparrow looked to see a blind fury in the demon's eyes. Jack raised the sword up and brought it down again, Sparrow kept his blade still and blocked it once again. But Jack didn't stop, repeatedly, he hacked the blade down onto Sparrow's over and over again. Each blow was as strong as the last, each time pushed the hero further into the ground.

Sparrow's own strength became too weak, his guard faltered for a moment. With a sharp flick of his hand, Jack smacked the sword from Sparrow's hands, sending it a far off into the distance.

"Enough of this," Jack bellowed loudly. Just as Sparrow tried to react, a powerful blow connected to his jaw. Jack's punch was a powerful force of strength. Sending Sparrow through the air, he landed with a crash several feet away.

Sparrow spat out the blood that had started to fill his mouth. Though his senses had been shaken heavily, he could hear Jack's stomping footsteps behind him.

"I will not be denied my throne," Jack yelled out. "Not by the corpse of an Archon too stubborn to die." As Jack was upon Sparrow, his plated boot struck out and kicked the fallen hero in his ribs. The new attack again threw Sparrow across the field. Jack's heavy march continued without a miss in step.

"Not by the lingering spirit of a long forgotten adversary." Again Jack kicked Sparrow, tossing him an equal distance, like a rag-doll. Unimaginable pains coursed through the hero's beaten body.

"And not by some worthless peasant turned hero!" Sparrow saw Avo's Tear laying on the ground near him. He knew he needed the blade, he needed its power. Hardly able to walk, Sparrow crawled toward it, dragging his body with little help from his legs. Reaching out his arm, his fingers came close to the hilt.

Then a horrific pain shot into his body as Jack's black sword was plunged into his back. Sparrow cried in agony as the blade pierced through his back, and exited his chest. The full length of the blade cut through him, even stabbing into the earth underneath, pinning him down.

"You'll have no need for this," Jack said slowly, walking up to Avo's Tear and kicking the holy blade aside. Jack then knelt over the hero, grabbing a hold of Sparrow's hair and lifting his head up, he brought their faces closer together.

"You've tried and failed hero," Jack said mockingly. "Your pain is brought upon by your own foolishness. Attempting to go against me, even when I destroyed everything that you hold close. But now, you are all alone, you were always alone." Weakly, Sparrow gave a soft chuckle, his lips bending to form a smile.

"That's... where you are wrong Jack. I've never been alone... even now, I can hear the whispers. You can too can't you, I can see it in your eyes. The voices of the many who have fallen to you, each one sending what little aide they can." Sparrow's arm reached up and grabbed onto the demon's shoulder. "And Jack... I did learn something... from you in fact... a weaponless blade!" Jack's eyes widened and a yell of pain escaped him as his chest was pierced. Looking down, he saw Sparrow's other arm inserted through his armor. The limb glowed with a dark power, the hand being straightened and made into a point, just as Jack himself did against the fallen heroes.

Sparrow removed his arm, a thick gush of black blood followed, flowing freely from the wound. Jack clutched at the wound and staggered away, out of the hero's field of view.

As the seconds passed, Sparrow could feel his own wounds effecting him. Every attempt to breath was met with a drainage of blood from his throat. A pool of the red liquid quickly formed under him. Very slowly, Sparrow pushed at the ground, the blade's tip being pulled from the earth.

Holding the blade's end, the hero tried forcing it back out of him. But it was a fruitless effort. Most if not all of the hero's strength had spilled out onto the fields.

Numbness started to cover his body. Sparrow could feel his own life starting to slip away. But he was so close to victory, so close to ending it. To die in such a way would be disgraceful. But there was nothing Sparrow could do. Even attempting to use his Will to heal the wound just brought more pain.

But as Sparrow clutched the Sword of Aeons, he could feel a new presence within his own mind. Looking at the blood, the hero felt as though the blade was trying to speak to him. While Avo's Tear hummed with a clarity that encouraged and strengthened him, the blade in his hands seemed to have its own sentient existence.

The evil blade whispered of bargains and deals. Offers so enticing that a god could fall prey to them. But Sparrow wasn't a god, not even close. Hardly taking a moment to think on it, Sparrow made his decision.

Jack laid on the ground, his wound still bleeding, but he ignored it. His thoughts focused on what had happened. Playing his thoughts back over and over, trying to see what went wrong and where. Letting out a simple sigh, Jack waited for the last breaths of his hero opponent. While his wounds were bad, they weren't drastically life threatening alone.

Then Jack's gaze caught something moving. The figure of Sparrow rising up from the ground. His blade was in the hero's right arm, while his left wiped away the bloody mess around his mouth.

There was a twinkle in Jack's eye as he watched Sparrow slowly walk towards him, leading to a hearty chuckle.

"So the hero still makes the same mistakes as his ancestor," Jack said through his laugh.

"It's not a mistake if it was worth it in the end," Sparrow replied. His hand formed a large ball of fire, and with a flick of his wrist, it flew toward Jack and engulfed his legs.

Jack's cry of pain brought a slight grin to the hero's face, wanting to cause the demon as much pain as he caused him. Getting closer to him, Sparrow brought the sword down into his plated thigh.

"It's over Jack, you've lost this time," Sparrow said after Jack's painful grunts. But then his groans turned to laughter, Jack's maddening laugh filled the air around them. It even brought a slight amount of confusion to the hero, not expecting the demon to laugh over his own defeat.

"Come now hero," Jack eventually said, "can you be so naive as to believe your victory is new? Do you truly think this is the first time I have fallen? Though I hold no pride on the subject, it is true. And yet, I've manage to come back every time, even more powerful then before... Your pathetic laws of life and death mean nothing to me. I will return hero, that you can be sure of. And with you being the last of your kind, it's only a matter of time before this world bows down to its true master."

Jack's laughter again echoed out. It's repeated tone struck mockingly into the hero's hearing. Sparrow's anger and frustrations were struck with a powerful force.

Sparrow cried out in anger before he raised up the Sword of Aeons and brought it down into Jack's chest, cutting into his heart. The laughter stopped dead, followed by a grotesque hacking sound from the masked demon. Then it all went silent as the intensity in Jack's yellow eyes faded.

For an unknown amount of time, Sparrow just stood there. Looking down on Jack and the blade piercing his chest.

Then a voice passed through his thoughts.

"_Sparrow,_" the voice said, the hero recognized it as Scythe's, "_you've done it..._" A simple grunt was Sparrow's response to it. The victory he had been grasping for for so long, suddenly felt hollow and bitter. "_I can feel your view on what he had said, but I'm afraid he is right... I had originally thought that it was his mask that kept his existence, but it seems his soul lives on regardless, impossible to destroy._"

Sparrow knelt down and picked up the white mask off of the Jack's corpse. Seeing a face he didn't recognize, the hero turned away from it. As Sparrow looked into the mask's eyes, he felt a powerful influence invade his mind alongside Scythe's. An urge to put on the mask twitched into his arm.

Slowly, he brought the mask up toward his face. The continuous pull of the mask was added with a sense of longing and need. Almost as though there was nothing else in the world to Sparrow.

Almost to his face, Sparrow held his breath as he prepared for the masks placement.

"_Snap out of it_," Scythe's voice barked, the order shook Sparrow's senses back.

Sparrow dropped the mask in that instant. It stayed on the ground, staring up at him. In disgust, Sparrow held up his sword and stabbed it into the malicious object, shattering it.

"_Good_," Scythe's voice echoed into his mind again, "_at least with his mask gone, Jack won't be able to return for some time. Though it is regrettable, it is true. Somehow, someday, Jack will return. It's doubtful it will be within your lifetime though. But put it out of your mind Sparrow, there's nothing you can do_."

"Perhaps..." Sparrow muttered, his eyes were fixed on the red and black sword in his hand. Examining it, gears started to turn in the hero's head, thoughts formed into ideas and a possible plan was born from it. The Sword of Aeons had already done so much, Sparrow wondered if it could offer something else.

Holding the blade in his left arm, Sparrow concentrated on the dark power he held. The mark on his arm began to burn as he put his strength into it. A black glow started to form around his arm, it traveled up to his hand and circled the blade.

Keeping the blade steady, Sparrow raised it up and sliced into the air itself. A rift tore open, a circular mass of shadowy blackness. Sparrow stared at it for a moment, his grip on the blade tightened, and he ran into the vortex.

* * *

Jack walked aimlessly through the emptiness that surrounded him. The plane of existence he stood on was something else entirely to the Void he called home. Absolutely nothing else was with him. Concepts such as light and dark were unheard of. The only thing accompanying him was the echoing of his footsteps and his own thoughts.

Jack's own presence there indicated the failure of his physical mask finding a new host. Though it was highly unlikely to him that the hero would be so easily coaxed.

But the demon did not worry on it any longer. Having played the game before, it was only a matter of waiting for the years to pass and a way of returning would show itself. The time alone would also allow him time for reflection, something he rarely ahead amongst the living.

Though an odd feeling had crept up into his senses. Like he wasn't truly alone as he should be.

Then he heard something, like a call of his name from a far off distance. The noise echoed and twisted from behind him. Jack turned around to investigate, but he was faced with something he had thought to be impossible.

As he turned, his gaze only briefly caught what was coming for him. A sword, as black as the Void itself, flew through the air. Like a bullet, it's speed made it almost unnoticeable. Just as Jack caught sight of it, the blade sank into his chest.

Jack roared in pain as he fell to his knees. Trying to pry the blade free, it was stuck within his own flesh. Looking out in the distance, Jack saw Sparrow, slowly walking toward him, the entirety of his right arm was engulfed in flame and illuminated the anger in his eyes.

For the first, Jack of Blades felt a hint of fear as he looked up at the hero.

"This... is... impossible," Jack cried out, "you are nothing but a pathetic mortal! You cannot destroy me!" Sparrow just shook his head, almost out of saddened disappointment.

"You still don't get it Jack. It was not I who beat you." Jack's eyes widened as he saw others behind the hero. Transparent people of a white mist that amassed in the hundreds, all of there eyes locked onto him.

"Alex and James defeated you," Sparrow said, "Brollin defeated you. Garth and Hammer defeated you. Every soul put down because of you, every flame that was put out due to your evil. All throughout your history, you thought your enemies were no threat to you dead. When in fact, through death, you gave them more power then you realized. Though they only had a whisper of a voice, I've seen what they want of me. I am their hand, their power, their justice... What is left for you Jack of Blades, it is only oblivion. You shall not return from this."

Jack could only look at the hero, look at what he has done. But even facing the idea of an extinction, Jack couldn't help but chuckle.

"Congratulations hero," he said slowly, his power beginning to fade, "you've put down your greatest enemy. I'm sure your mongrel ancestors would be proud... But what would my death mean without one last big bang?

"I can accept my fate now, only because I know your own... Hundreds of years ago, before that damned hero put me down, I made necessary precautions in case the impossible did happen. Of course my defeat failed to bring the needed result for a lack of power... But when the Court returned, I was able to use our combined might to bring into fruition, my greatest plan. Our lives anchored it within the ruins of a forgotten land. But now, it will come! Darkness Incarnate! Without our influence, it's insatiable hunger will ravage your land. Your hope, your joy, it will all be snuffed out, leaving only a husk meant to be crushed! The light of your world will die, leaving only death and a cold black! Then the flood of darkness will envelope the hearts and minds of your people. And as the darkness swallows your world whole, the people will spend their last moments looking up and seeing the one responsible for it all, you..."

Sparrow just shook his head as he cleared the distance between himself and Jack.

"I will tell you the same thing I told your Queen. It will be dealt with when it's time comes." Sparrow held out his flaming arm, his open palm was so close to Jack's white mask, the tips of his fingers almost touched the surface. Waiting for a moment, Sparrow looked at the sight, seeing the intensity in Jack's eyes.

"Go ahead," Jack barked, "finish me!" A simple smirk crossed the hero's face.

"I release you." And with that, Sparrow unleashed the flame spell that had been building the entire time. It flowed from his hand and completely engulfed the demon before him.

One last roar of defiance was all Jack made, it rang out over the blazing fury of the hero's spell, then the voice dimmed and everything became quite. A clang of metal then sounded off as the Sword of Aeons fell and clattered on the ground, laying next to a scorched mask. Without a moment of hesitation, Sparrow brought his foot down on the mask, crushing it.

Sparrow then turned and walked away, only stopping for a moment to look back at the black and red sword on the floor. But he turned his back on it, leaving the blade behind.

* * *

The hero looked out to Bower Lake. The terrain was scarred and damaged from their conflict to the point he could hardly recognize it. All of the green of grass and trees were gone, flat fields were raised into small cliffs, not a single sign of life was present. But Sparrow knew that the plants and animals would eventually return, bringing life back to the land.

Looking up at the sky, Sparrow held a hand over his head to shadow it, his eyes not adjusted to the light. The storm was gone and a clear blue sky was all that was there.

With a smile, Sparrow stretched his body out on the dirt. Resting his head on his hands, he gazed up at the clouds while they drifted by.

With its power gone and members destroyed, the Court was finally finished. And the hero could finally rest.

**A/N: Bah, another long gap between updates. Sorry about that.**

**Anyway, woohoo! There it is. Jack's gone and Sparrow has won, who didn't see THAT comin... (cough) **

**But just because the battle is over, that doesn't mean this story is. I still have about one or two more chapters to do. A bit of an epilogue to help wrap everything up.**

**So once again, sorry for the long wait, hope everyone's still liking it.**


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter: 34, epilogue-ish**

Sparrow's senses took in the solitude around him. His surroundings were full of people but lacked what was needed, life. Though the Bowerstone Cemetery never had large amounts of people in one group, it was never considered a bad thing. It was exactly what he wanted.

Looking down, Sparrow read the two stone plaques that were placed into the ground. Each held the name of someone he cared dearly for. One of a friend, the other of a wife.

It had been the first time the hero visited the graves of Alex and James. Days after the end of their war, Sparrow helped to organize the effort to finish what they started, to erase all the damage that had been done. But knowing that the fight was over, Sparrow allowed himself to drift into the shadows and let the people take over what he started.

"There is a time and place to grieve..." Sparrow said slowly, he knew it was that time. Collapsing onto his knees, Sparrow hunched over and stayed within the silence. Droplets of moisture slide down his face and dampened the dirt under him.

For what seemed like hours, Sparrow sat there, allowing his emotion to spill out. But the feeling of emptiness that circled around him didn't last and was broken by a presence standing beside the hero. A simple glance to his right was all that was needed for Sparrow to realize who he was. A thin man with straggly hair that looked naturally filthy. His attire being equally strange, consisting of ragged black clothing with a jacket and an odd looking top hat.

"I was wondering when you would come," the man said, placing a sympathetic hand on the hero's shoulder.

"I've been busy," Sparrow muttered as a reply. Though the statement would usually be taken as a sign of hostility, the man knew the circumstances too well to take it that way. With a light sigh, he matched the hero's gaze and looked at the two gravestones.

"I hope it's not too late say I'm sorry for your loss." Sparrow merely shook his head.

"It never is... and thank you, for that... and this," he replied, nodding toward the area around them. James' and Alex's graves were set up more beautifully then Sparrow could have imagined.

Flowers decorated around them both, their colors spanning across an entire spectrum. A tree was near the spot as well, providing a comforting shade and a melodic tune as the winds rustled the leaves. The location itself was set aside from others, more secluded to allow an added sense of privacy.

"Some of my best work," the man said with a hint of pride in his tone, "and of course, for an old friend I would do nothing but the best." There was a long pause as the two accompanied one another. Then a heavy breath could be heard from the man. "You'll want your privacy now I'm sure, so long hero."

"Goodbye Victor," Sparrow said to the Grave Keeper, "and send my regards to the misses."

"That I will," Victor replied, giving the hero a small smile before walking away.

Once again Sparrow was left alone with his grief. The hero's mind began to fade from the world around him. His senses only picking up the light rustle of the trees, a whistle from the wind, and the warmth of the sun. Becoming so immersed into his surroundings, the hero became slightly startled as he felt a strong hand grip his shoulder.

"Been looking everywhere for ya," a voice belonging to the hand said to him. Sparrow didn't need to see who it was to know the owner.

"How have they been Walter?" Sparrow asked, knowing Beck was off with the others.

"We were able to take care of most if not all the Zealots, whoever is left must be in hiding. All villages have been saved as well, but after you're last stunt, there was little fight to be had."

"Not very organized without a leader," Sparrow muttered, his eyes never left the two stones before him, even feeling Beck's own pair on them, "at least it's finally over."

"Oh," Beck said with a smirk, "I wouldn't say it's over just yet." Upon hearing that, Sparrow turned to give his friend a questioning look, causing Beck's smile to enlarge. "Come, we have somewhere we need to be."

They both walked across Bowerstone, Beck leading and Sparrow on his tail. Leaving the Cemetery, they passed groups of cheering citizens as their path took them through the square and to Fairfax Gardens. It didn't take long for Sparrow to see he was being led to the Castle, it's titanic walls shadowing his presence.

Every guard they passed greeted Sparrow fondly, each showing a degree of expectation as the hero meet them eye to eye.

Their trail led through a set of hallways that Sparrow had never been through before. It eventually ended with a set of double doors, no less regal then any other within the castle.

Beyond them was a large chamber, no clear idea could be formed to it's purpose. The room was empty of any furnishings save for a large rectangular table with a series of chairs that lined so the occupants faced any and all guests coming in through the doorway.

Sitting at the table was a group of people Sparrow either had never seen before or hardly knew. Their cloths spoke of nobility, a rich heritage or position. Every one of them held a look of prestige and power, but as their sights set on the approaching hero, a subtle twitch of respect and awe crossed their calmed faces.

There were other faces in the chamber as well, faces of people Sparrow knew. Derek, Sabine, Jasper, Swift, and even Reaver were in attendance, a loud bark gave notice to a dog who jumped in excitement.

"Ah, Sparrow, Walter, you're finally here." Fendier appeared and shook their hands. Before the hero could question any reasoning to what was happening, the lord sat down at the table with the others. "I'll assume that introductions aren't needed?" Sparrow just nodded his head, knowing all he needed to on the group.

In a sense, they were the leaders of Albion. The people who were in control of either a town or a larger area that they had been given to either from election, must like Fendier, or family line. Some Sparrow had met himself, when he pleaded to them to aide their army. Others he could tell belonged to other areas that he had sent letters to.

"Well," Fendier began, "shortly before the war had ended, we convened here to discuss the future of Albion. Nothing like it had ever happened for our land, that was enough to bring sorrow to us all. To see how far we have fallen as a nation. Since the end of the Old Kingdom, Albion has been divided. And what good ever came from it? Because of the efforts of all of you, we have realized that together, the future of Albion is brighter then it has ever been. It was based off of that, that we unanimously decided that it was time for change, it was time to return Albion to it's former power. It is time to remake Albion as a Kingdom."

All of them, Sparrow included, were shocked to hear what Fendier was saying.

"A Monarchy?" Beck questioned. Fendier gave a simple smile to the warrior.

"Yes Walter. Albion needs a ruler, Albion needs someone who can take up the mantle and be a voice of the people."

"And I suppose you have an idea as to who this "King" should be?" Reaver asked rather suggestively. The group of lords looked at one another knowingly before Fendier nodded.

"As a matter of fact, we have. Though it took hardly but a moment to decide, we have all agree that you Sparrow, should take the position." Again the people in the room gave looks of shock, the hero especially. His mouth hung open slightly, his eyes were as wide as they could go.

"Me?" Sparrow asked, almost certain he had heard wrong.

"Exactly," Fendier said, a look of excitement crossing his face, "it was hardly a question that you should be the one. No one else has earned the right more. The people of Albion all look up to you as their hero, and your control of the army has proven that you are more then capable in being a leader." Sparrow's shock didn't die down in the slightest, even as Fendier continued. "But it is your choice Sparrow, we are certain you understand what we ask, and can only hope for your answer."

For a moment, Sparrow felt isolated. All eyes were upon him, as if accepting a throne was such a simple feat. The hero turned to his friends, the people who stood by his side as the darkness fell over Albion. Thinking of Albion as a whole, he thought of all that he had seen during his travels, things that he saw wrong with the land but knew he could never fix them.

Sparrow returned his gaze to the lords that were before him, a smirk crossed the hero's lips as he stared into Fendier's eyes and made his decision.

* * *

The Kingdom of Albion. It sounded so strange to the hero. But even stranger still was to imagine himself as it's leader.

But creating a monarchy from scratch was no easy feat, certainly something that wouldn't be accomplished overnight.

Much of the work was being handled by the different lords however. Fendier himself took on the largest roles. The people of Albion made things much easier for them as well, it didn't take long for the concept of a King to take hold. Many scholars went as far as to call it the dawn of the New Kingdom.

Another easy task was the Kingdom's capital, the place were the seat of power would rest. Bowerstone, the most powerful city in all of Albion was the logical choice. And an appropriate home to a King was needed.

Hundreds of workers were brought in, all assigned with the duty of creating a castle befitting a king. Using the old Castle Fairfax as a starting point, they began to add to and make new around its walls.

But Sparrow was not absolved of any work himself. Not having the slightest idea of what he was in for, the hero spent much of his time in the presence of literature. Albion was not the first land to adopt a King as it's leadership. Many lands across the seas already held such institutions, and many books on the subject existed. Page after page was examined by the hero, learning what it meant to be a monarch.

Jasper was an excellent aide when it came to the hero's study. Surprising the hero with an extensive knowledge of specifics points. Going as far as making Sparrow think the man used to be a king himself.

One day, Fendier approached the hero with an odd request. Asking for Sparrow's opinion on the details of a crown that they were making.

Sparrow hadn't realized the creation of a king, also meant the creation of the royal objects. Sparrow thought on it for a moment. A king's crown was a symbol of their power, showing the authority they wielded as well as the responsibility they held. The crown belonging the Albion should be respected by it's people, but there was only one thing Sparrow saw that was in need of such respect.

Removing the Seal from his belt, Sparrow tossed the object to Fendier.

"Try that," the hero said with a smile. It took a moment for it to sink into the man, but Fendier soon matched the hero's expression and walked away with the Seal in hand.

* * *

Sparrow stared into a mirrior, a mimicking copy of himself stared back.

Every piece of his old clothing was gone, replaced by an attire of the finest material the hero had ever felt. Having grown used to torn rags and dirty fabric, it felt unnatural for him to be in such an outfit. Even his hair had been cleaned and combed to perfection, slightly parted in an acceptable manner.

Jasper made circles around the hero, fixing every flaw in his clothing and making everything as perfect as he possibly could.

Walter could be seen leaning against a wall, a broad grin stretched from ear to ear as he watched the spectacle.

"I don't see the point in this," Sparrow muttered, mostly to himself. Jasper huffed in annoyance as he continued his work on the hero.

"Someone of your station can't look like some street monger, no matter how much _you_ may be used to it." A groan was Sparrow's response to it. While he understand the need for the clothing, it didn't make him feel any better about it.

Walter's grip tightened on Sparrow's shoulder as he looked at them both in the mirror.

"This is it Sparrow, the big day," he said with a laugh.

"You seem more excited about it then I am," Sparrow replied. Though it didn't look it, Sparrow felt a heavy sickness at the pit of his stomach and just as light headed. It was all the hero could do to not make his outside reflect it.

"Don't worry," Walter said, patting Sparrow on the back and making him feel even worse, "it'll pass soon. Just focus on getting ready." Before the hero could respond, Walter turned and left the room they were in.

As Sparrow watched Beck leave, his eyes drifted across the room they were in. One of the many new rooms added to the castle. While construction was not fully finished, it was far enough along to allow use.

"One final touch," Jasper said, bringing the hero's gaze back to the mirror. With a single quick motion, Jasper draped a massive cape over Sparrow's back. It was a beautiful shade of blue that matched the color of Sparrow's Will Lines. An equally impressive aspect of it was the size, dropping down to the point that the bottom lightly trailed across the ground. A golden chain was connected between the two corners that rested on Sparrow's shoulders, and in the center of that chain was his Seal, something Sparrow wouldn't dare leave behind with his old clothing.

"There," Jasper said, sounding proud of himself, "now you look like royalty." Sparrow chuckled as he fully examined himself in the mirror, unable to do anything but agree with the fool.

The echoing sound of footsteps could be heard from the across the room. Sparrow looked to see Fendier standing in the doorway, his white teeth showing from the smile on his face.

"My word Sparrow," he said, his eyes examining the newly dressed hero, "you certainly wear the look well." Knowing why Fendier had come, not another word was spoken between them. Sparrow marched down and away from the mirror and followed Fendier's path out of the room.

They didn't go far however. Soon after leaving the room, they entered a much larger one.

The room itself held hardly anything within its walls. Large patches of blue cloth draped down from ceiling onto the walls, with a matching blue carpet that stretched from one end of the room toward the main doorway leading out. But the dominate feature was what sat at the very end. A throne sat at the end, a seat of power that many decisions would be made upon.

But the lack of décor did not make the room empty. The people of Albion stood before the throne, all staring at Sparrow as he entered the throne room. And from what the hero heard, their reach spanned farther then the room allowed.

Beck, Derek and Reaver each stood in a spot beside the throne. The Lords of Albion all stood at the front of the crowd, even Sabine stood with them, showing his own interest in the event. Fendier and Jasper both took their own spots with the others.

Sparrow walked to the front of the throne and faced the crowd, feeling every eye locked onto him.

"Look how far we have come," Sparrow began, showing boastful smile to the crowd, "the obstacles we have faced, the trials we have conquered, the foes we have defeated. Each a test to show our strength, and each passed with extraordinary results... And now I stand before you all again, to be looked at, not as your hero, but as your king... When I defeated Lucien, I had thought my time as a hero was over, I had thought that Albion was safe. Now of course, I see how foolish I was. But I did realize something, that a hero could never change Albion, they were only meant as protectors, to fight evil as it came to be and wait until it rises again. But what good does it bring if nothing is truly done about it? As a hero, I could never have truly protected Albion, but I see, as it's King, this land can find an everlasting peace.

"Jack of Blades had the idea of taking over Albion as his own. Using his influence, he found followers willing to betray their land, to betray us. With them, he tried to conqueror a divided Albion, hoping to bring it under one ruler, himself... I suppose he was succeeded part of the way... But the war he started was not without it's loses, many good people died because of him and the traitors who followed. None of them died in vain however, and should all be commended for their sacrifices, and their courage. You should never forget them, even now as I am being called a king.

"And I am honored to be accepted into such a role, to be trusted with such power. The future is filled with more trials, as we rebuild our scarred land. But now... that future has never looked brighter!" When Sparrow finished, he turned back and sat on the throne in front of them.

Beck then appeared holding an object covered in silk cloth, removing the wrapping revealed a golden crown. Though the crown lacked in jewels and flashy ornamentation, the engravings decorating it were as beautiful as any gem. And in the very center was the Seal of the Heroes Guild.

Standing at the side of the throne, Beck lifted the crown high above the sitting hero.

"All hail, Sparrow, the Hero King of Albion!" And with those words, Beck placed the crown upon the hero's head. As the crown touched his skin, Sparrow felt it's full weight. Not just the weight of the metal, but the weight of an entire nation, reflecting what he was being given at that moment.

For what seemed like ages, Sparrow sat at his new seat of power and met the people who arrived at the castle. New faces came to see him, as well as familiar ones. Even Sabine gave his regards before departing for his Dwellers.

The other Lords all gave their own respects to the king, but Sparrow knew they too would have to return to their respective cities.

A hint of worry blemished the otherwise perfect day. As Sparrow watched the eyes of Fendier. The entire time of the castle's re-creation, he was given a simple room to stay in. But Sparrow realized that he had replaced the man.

"Fendier," Sparrow called, catching his attention almost immediately, "I am a bit worried about what your plans are now. With the capital here, I'm afraid your position has been eliminated." Fendier only showed a smile to the statement.

"Don't worry about me... your Majesty... I may have grown fond of my old position, it's all the more thrilling to know what my replacement was." Sparrow returned the smile, thankful for his understanding. Then an idea came to Sparrow that he was sure to like.

"Perhaps you don't have to lose your position after all," Sparrow said, his smile broadened when Fendier gave him a confused look. "Fendier," he said, standing from his throne, "I hereby bestow upon you the title of Royal Adviser to your King. Your insight and experience will be invaluable to help reshape this land into a Kingdom." The look of shock on his face was laughable to the hero. And he accepted the thanks that followed.

Reaver himself even came to Sparrow and congratulated him, stating that the feeling wouldn't last between them. And before Sparrow could get any further with the pirate, he had left the castle, Bloodstone in sight.

The rest of the day was filled with Sparrow filling out what duties he held as king. Assigning his friends jobs that he knew they had earned. Jasper being the most overjoyed to be allowed a life within the castle, using his own abilities to help keep everything in shape.

* * *

Hardly a week passed before another important event was held within the castle. The people of Bowerstone flocked to the throne room as they waited for whatever would happen.

Sparrow sat at his throne. Fendier, Beck, and Jasper stood at the side. As the crowed of people looked as though it would get no bigger, Sparrow raised a hand to call for silence.

"Not too long ago, you joined me here to see my crowning," Sparrow said, leaning forward in his seat, "now you are here to see something of equal importance." Sparrow beckoned Walter forward and with a confused look he obeyed.

"Walter, since I've first met you, you have been nothing but a hassle. But... you have also been one of the greatest friends I could ever hope for. You have saved me from the pits of despair, and led the charge against Jack during his final hours. Though you are not a hero, you would have made one of the best. And while I cannot give you such a title, I know something that I can." Sparrow unsheathed Avo's Tear and held it out. "Kneel," Sparrow commanded, and Walter did so.

Raising the blade over him, Sparrow lowered it down and lightly tapped Beck on his shoulders.

"Forevermore you shall now be known as Sir Walter Beck, first Knight to the Kingdom of Albion." It was a powerful title that a King could give to their subject. Something many other lands did. Knights were revered as powerful soldiers, and while not possessive of any mystical ability, they were rumored to be able to rival heroes themselves.

The crowds started to clap and cheer as Walter turned to them. Sparrow's own happiness for his friend was shown, Beck had earned his title.

Allowing his friend to take in his celebration, Sparrow took the time to spend a moment in private.

Leaving the throne room, Sparrow walked his way to a room that was made as the castle's war room. It was designed much like the Sanctuary, even a circular map of Albion was placed in the center.

Staring down at the map, Sparrow thought of all that was happening. He could hardly believe any of it.

Then he felt a presence with him in the room. Turning toward the source he saw a man in a blue hooded robe. A smirk formed on the hero's face as Scythe removed his hood.

"Hello Black," Sparrow greeted, gaining an expression of shock from him.

"So you know," he said, sounding somewhat bitter about it.

"I figured it was obvious at this point, given our circumstances."

"Yes, I suppose you are correct."

"So why are you here?" Scythe's fading eyes looked over Sparrow with a sense of pity.

"Well firstly, I offer my congratulations over your success. Reminds me so much of the day I was crowned, though the title has changed, the power is no different." A slight grunt of amusement came from Sparrow.

"Seems as though Jack was right about us always repeating our history..." The hero's voice was turning melancholy.

"He was right in many things Sparrow, but he was also sure of his own everlasting existence, and because of you that is no longer a factor... The real reason I'm here however, is that I've needed to see how you're doing." A heavy sigh came from Sparrow as he figured what they were going to discuss.

"I suppose you're the only one who would understand, or even know, what has happened."

"It's not something that can be easily forgotten Sparrow. I hope you understand what exactly you have done, and the consequences it will bear upon you." Sparrow left his spot by the map and stood in front of the nearest window, taking in the peaceful view.

"I've thought of the consequences, considered the implications, and viewed the benefits. And I would do it again. I wasn't thinking of myself when I made the choice, it's not as though I had much of a choice in the matter to begin with. What would you have done? Repeat yourself all those years ago?"

"I would Sparrow" Scythe said, and to Sparrow's surprise, the corpse of a man heaved a saddened sigh, "my existence has been full of regret. But it was never for _that_ decision, it was what came afterward. In peace, all Albion saw was devastation. While I succeeded in destroying the evil in the land, I failed in passing on the same virtuous meaning to the descendants of my power."

"Perhaps it was never your responsibility to teach it," Sparrow muttered.

"Perhaps... perhaps not. But regardless of my own regrets, I can only hope you succeed where I have failed." Scythe looked at Sparrow one last time. The whispers across Albion were clear enough for anyone to hear, how the hero of Bowerstone had changed in his battle with Jack. Changes were easily seen by all of them, even the simplest peasant could see it. Sparrow's will lines still pulsed with an eerie power, never dimming in the slightest, as if he was caught in a permanent Will spell. Even the hero's eyes had changed, losing all of their old color, they were now a shimmering blue. But only Scythe could see the full extent of the what had happened. But he could only pray that the hero was ready for it.

Scythe held out his arm and a black portal split open in the war room.

"Good bye Sparrow," he said, turning a final gaze to him, "I doubt we will meet again, in this life anyway." Then Scythe disappeared into the rift , leaving the king alone.

Sparrow continued staring out his window to watch Albion. He envisioned all the good he could bring to the land with what he has been given. But he also knew there were things to be done before then.

Holding up Avo's Tear, Sparrow examined the blade carefully. It had helped him throughout his journey, if anything, he was in the blade's debt. Though he wished he could hold it forever, it's blissful tune having brought clarity and peace to his mind, he knew his time with it was up.

A trip to the forest would be needed. And as Sparrow thought on it. There was one other place he needed to visit. Where one last task was in need of completion, and just thinking of it made the hero king's heart pound against his chest.

**A/N: Alright part one is done for this... epilogue type deal...  
**

**That means only one last chapter and this fic is done. **

**Hopefully I'll be able to get it done without taking an entire week to update, but we shall see.**


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter: 35, epilogue-ish 2**

A woman left her small home, a bucket cradled under her arm. Night had fallen some time ago, but the need of water forced her outside.

The full moon dominated the sky, it's pale magnificence illuminated the field around the woman. It's light gave notice to her ocean blue eyes and dark brown hair.

Elizabeth walked out toward the back of her house, a water pump was nearby and became the focus of her gaze. Humming a simple tune, she set the bucket underneath the nozzle and started pumping. As the water poured out and splashed inside the wooden container, her rhythm on the pump was broken.

In a shocked gasp, Elizabeth turned to look out to the lands around her. Nothing was there, but she could swear she had heard something, a calling from someone that wasn't there.

The feeling passed as it turned to disappointment. Though it was what she always did when fetching water, reliving the moment her life changed when a strange man collapsed at her feet at her father's home. But no matter how much the spark of excitement meant to her, it immediately brought a hollow feeling of being forgotten.

They had all seen it, even before the war fully took hold. The people of Grayshire talked of the dark power spanning across Albion, and a hero fighting against it. Of course Elizabeth never spoke of her own meeting with the hero. Not even to her friends who had taken her in.

Tales and rumors spread like wildfire as the army of Albion was formed. Elizabeth stayed glued to any story she could hear, realizing the full effect of the war itself. Then the day came, when the skies above the village blackened and the vision of a warrior and demon were seen by all. Elizabeth never knew a time where her heart raced faster as she watched Sparrow clash blades with the masked monster.

But then it was all over, and news of the newly throned King Sparrow swept across Albion. And as the days passed, she thought of her own foolishness to think that such a simple woman as herself would be a thought in the mind of a King, more important things were on task, as well as much more nobler flames to take the hand of royalty.

The bucket started to overflow and the water stopped. A simple sigh escaped Elizabeth as she retrieved the container and walked back to her home. But as she turned to leave, her sights caught the silhouette of a man standing off in the distance. The clouds in the sky moved away from the moon's gaze, allowing the light to shine on the man, revealing what was hidden.

A dark blue robe covered his entire body, the hood of the robe hid the wearer's face. But in the darkness of the hood, simple lines of a glowing blue could be seen running across the man's face.

The man removed his hood showing his face, the face of a king.

Water splashed across the ground as Elizabeth ran to the man. Colliding into him, her arms wrapped around his back.

"Sparrow," she said as she buried her face in his chest, her tears dampening his clothing.

"I'm sorry Elizabeth," Sparrow said, running a hand through her hair as he apologized, "I wanted to find you sooner, but everything has been so hectic." Elizabeth gave a light chuckle as she looked into his eyes.

"I know, we all saw your last little bout. But you're here now, and I'm glad you're okay." Elizabeth held his hand tightly, pulling him forward into her house.

Though much smaller then her last, the home did feel much like the one in Skyreach. Even Sparrow noticed it as he entered the doorway.

They walked a short way through the house, and Elizabeth led the hero to the bedroom. There, a crib sat and inside was a beautiful baby boy.

"Is this," Sparrow began asking with a tone of astonished joy, Elizabeth gave a nod as they both looked down on him. A small tuft of hair clung to his head, matching the shade of his mother's perfectly.

"What's his name," Sparrow asked as he dangled his finger near the child. With a joyful squeal, the infant grabbed the finger with his tiny hands.

"Logan," Elizabeth answered. Sparrow noticed her eyes starting to become wet with tears. "After his... father." The hero held her in his arms as she uttered light sobs.

"Well it's a perfect name," Sparrow said, in a matter-of-fact tone. The hero then planted a light kiss on her lips before his own broadened into a smile. "Maybe... we can add 'Prince' to that title." Elizabeth looked up at him, almost in shock, before she mimicked his smile and tightened her own arms around his chest.

* * *

It took no time at all for rumors to spread, of a strange woman being seen within the castle. Even more important were the rumors of a supposed child this woman had. Even the few people under the King's employ within the castle could hardly figure out the full story.

Some rumors took on a dark tone. Sparking ideas of an irresponsible King, or an extortion plot made by an ice woman, many overusing terms such as blackmail and wedlock.

But one day, a special announcement was made. After just gaining a sense of normalcy from their newly created kingdom, the people of Albion were told that now, they would have a Queen.

The turnout at the wedding was astounding. Beating out even Sparrow's own crowning ceremony.

People looked on in awe at the center of Bower Lake, were a pristine white gazebo was built in memory of the fallen during the war. There, a man and a woman stood. Any and all rumors of the two were immediately put to rest as the people saw the true love that existed between them both.

As the two were wed, the visiting people erupted into a fit of cheering.

Sparrow's smile never left him as he looked at Elizabeth, her cheeks a heavy tint of rosy red, as the people cheered for them.

The celebration the moved to the castle. Everyone wanted to meet the newly made Queen, to learn of who she was.

An impressive line of subjects was formed. As people took a moment to have a short, but meaningful, conversation. Sparrow could hardly keep from laughing as he watched the spectacle, the different people who Elizabeth greeted and shook hands with.

Eventually as the time went on, the hero found himself becoming unnerved by something, a disturbance he couldn't place that made him uneasy. Leaving his wife's side, Sparrow made his way through the branching hallways of the castle.

Sparrow found his way into the royal bedchamber. There, Jasper was sitting down with baby Logan on his arm and a milk bottle in hand.

The hero chuckled lightly at the sight before leaving the room unnoticed. But even seeing the peaceful didn't stop the strange feeling that clouded his mind. Sparrow eventually made it to his war room and sat down.

Though the name wouldn't show to it, Sparrow found the war room to be the most peaceful in the entire castle.

Sitting alone cleared his mind slightly, the sound of a crackling fire and his own breathing were all he could hear. But the silence was soon broken by a loud creaking noise. Turning his gaze in the direction, he saw the doors leading out of the room slamming shut on their own.

Without hesitation, Sparrow jumped to his feet, his sword already unsheathed.

"Don't tell me the weight of a crown is already creating a paranoid mind," a voice called from behind him. The hero turned to see Theresa, wearing her usual expressionless face and hand gesture.

"Well," the hero replied, "you can't be too careful. Especially when you have more to protect then just yourself." With a simple nod, the Seeress walked closer to the hero. A slight tingle on the back of his neck gave the feeling of being examined, something he had grown used to growing up around the old gypsy.

Then Theresa did something that shocked the hero, she smiled, a broad smile that even showed a small bit of her teeth.

"I'm very proud of you Sparrow," she finally said as her lips formed back into her standared look, "you have permanently put down a great evil. And you've succeeded in giving Albion a hope that was thought to have been lost long ago." Sparrow looked down at the floor in shame, his shoulders adjusting themselves as he gave a sigh.

"It's not as though it was my doing," he said, his voice coming out as a murmur but the gypsy heard it clearly.

"You must not corrupt your achievement because of the means by which it was accomplished. It was something you chose and _that_ is what makes the hero. Just as you stood with me at the Spire, there was a choice to be made, and with only your own judgment you made the right decision." Sparrow chuckled slightly at the gypsy's words.

"You know," Sparrow said, staring blankly at a wall, "I never really gave thought to what you told me, back in the Spire. Honestly, I figured you had to of been wrong... To think, me... a King. Even when day-dreaming with Rose... such an idea never crossed us. And look now... me living in a castle... just as we always wished for..."

"Sparrow," Theresa said, causing the hero to turn his full attention to her, "I have a wedding gift for you." Sparrow gave the Seerss an odd look. "A reward for all that you have done, and all that you will do." Theresa held out her hands and Sparrow's heart almost stopped.

As Theresa handed him the gift, Sparrow looked at the music box in his hands. The very item that started his journey as a hero, and ended his fight against Lucien.

"I-I don't," Sparrow stammered out, hardly able to form a sentence.

"Turn it," Theresa said, here gaze never faltering from the hero. Though hesitant, Sparrow gripped the thin rod that stuck from the side of the music box and began to turn it. Then the beautiful music of the music box began playing, the tune that was burned into the hero's mind due to it's importance to him.

The music played faster and faster. Sparrow's hands started to shake as the box vibrated rapidly. Then the box opened and a blinding white light erupted from it.

* * *

Sparrow found himself standing in the center of Bowerstone's town square. But something was wrong. The market was completely empty, void of any form of life. Then, a thunderous boom shook the skies and Sparrow looked up in horror.

The sun began to turn black. It's fiery surface darkened and turned to a sphere of an empty darkness, leaving the sky a lifeless gray. The ground underneath Sparrow started to shake violently, cracks formed in the stone and a inky black sludge poured out from the holes.

All around him, the black sludge drained out onto the ground. Like a thickened water, it flowed across the surface like a wave. The different shops and houses of the market seemed to age right in front of the hero, like a thousand years occurred in seconds. The decrepit structures collapsed and were turned to rubble.

Before Sparrow could react, the black sludge had caught his feet. As he tried to run, he felt his legs stiffen and he realized that he could not move. The sludge slid up his legs and over his chest. As it reached his face, he gasped for air while it came over his mouth. Just as it swallowed the last bit of light he could see, Sparrow felt himself falling.

An endless nothingness, even worse then the Void itself was all that was around the hero. And in the darkness he saw more visions of what was to come.

Sparrow saw many things. Of succession, a tyrannical king, death, a revolution, and a hideous monster.

The beast floated through the air, it's feet unable to be seen. Jagged jaws twitched slightly up and down with a rhythm-less movement. It's six eyes darted in the direction of the hero and locked onto him. Sparrow felt a searing pain in his eyes as the creature moved closer to him.

A maddening laugh came from the beast as it stood over the hero, as though evil itself had formed its own voice that echoed hollow noises.

"A choice was made," it bellowed out, each word draining Sparrow's strength, "and now we come for you!" It's hand raised up, showing long spiny fingers that were as pale as a long dead corpse. It's arm swung downward on the hero. But before it made contact, a bright light blinded both Sparrow and the monster. It's painful shriek pierced the air and when Sparrow opened his eyes, the monster was gone.

Sparrow looked out to see a young man, who looked much like Sparrow himself. A fierce gaze of battle was locked on his face, and a golden crown sat on his head.

* * *

The heavy thud of the music box hitting the floor brought Sparrow back to the war room.

Staggering back, his hands gripped the circular map of Albion and was used to keep his standing position. Sweat dripped off of him like a stream. A loud pounding could be heard in the room, it continued until Sparrow realized it was the thudding of his own heart.

He looked at Theresa, his eyes as wide as they were allowed.

"Th-Theresa..." he said, his heavy breathing making the name almost unrecognizable.

"You needed to see for yourself what kind of threat looms over the horizon Sparrow. And as I have told you long ago, I see many futures. But very few of them differ from this tragedy. And unfortunately... it will not come in your time."

"I... I think I understand..." Sparrow muttered.

"I hope you do Sparrow. For your sake, and Albion's. And remember Sparrow, through ignorance there is peaceful bliss, and through peace there is prosperity." Before the hero could reply, the doors of the war room opened and she left. Walking out the doors and disappearing.

Sparrow looked down at the music box. Scanning through everything he had just seen in his mind. Only a light sigh came from the hero, as he realized he had a lot of work to do.

* * *

As time went on, the Kingdom of Albion flourished into an unprecedented peace. Under the rule of a single man, great minds were brought together and advanced the lives of everyone. Markets that were previously unheard of came to be, and the use of metal became a constant in the rebuilding of Albion.

The young prince grew up as well. Though his origins were still not truly known by the people of Albion. It was Elizabeth who first brought the discussion into existence. Something Sparrow himself didn't think of, or didn't want to discuss.

As a King, he was expected to leave an heir to the throne. A child who was raised to be capable to receive such a mantle. And it was not thought differently for Albion's king. It was then decided by both Sparrow and Elizabeth to keep Logan's heritage a secret, as to spare him from any harm that may come of such knowledge. But the truth did not effect Sparrow in the slightest. The hero loved the boy as though he was his own flesh and blood.

And that love did not falter in the slightest. Even as the young Logan stood beside his parents as they both stared down into the crib where a newborn baby boy slept.

Logan had heard of a new arrival being spoken of throughout the castle, but the prince didn't fully understand what was meant by it. Even as his mother's belly seemed to never stop growing.

But the day came. And as Sparrow and Elizabeth looked down at their second son, the tears in their eyes were unmistakable.

"What shall we name him Sparrow," Elizabeth asked, brushing aside the small patch of hair that was on the child's head.

"I've thought of one," he replied, "a name of a dear friend who asked for nothing, but gave what he could, even if he was a bit odd in the head." Elizabeth looked at her husband in surprise. A smile appeared on her lips as she wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

"I think that would be a perfect name." Sparrow's own smile came about as he noticed Logan trying to stand tip-toe, an attempt to look into the crib.

"Come here son," the hero said before hoisting him up to see. "Meet your new brother... James."

Sparrow gave as much attention as he could to his family. Even with the duties of a King, time was still found to spend with his wife and sons. But after the birth of James, Sparrow's duties seemed to have increased.

One of his biggest achievements was spent in a small town that was nestled in a far off mountain range. Brightwall was a noticeably small town, but when Sparrow returned there as King, it's population nearly tripled in a matter of days.

The reason was what he did there. At the farthest outskirts of the town, a massive building was made. Sparrow called it an academy, filled with thousands of books of any subject known to man. And unknown to the people, it had been built atop the a secret library where many of the books came from. After the the Brightwall Academy was established, more and more people visited the small village. Many visitors stayed within it's walls and Brightwall grew better because of it.

When questioned on the reasons for the academy, the King would merely say it was for Albion "to learn something," but they didn't know the other reason for it's creation.

On multiple occasions the King was absent from his throne. Only a few people would know of Sparrow's whereabouts and activities. And while Sparrow kept his own secrets, even from his most loyal subjects, Albion never doubted their King.

Through the years, more trials for Albion where encountered. And with the leadership of their King, they were all overcome. Stories that were written spoke of Albion as a broken land. From when the people of Albion dragged themselves from the ashes of the Old Kingdom, to the last chapter of the Court, Albion was divided. No true sense of guidance or hope existed.

But as an ancient evil loomed over the lands, only one stood a chance against it. A hero who held more ties to normal mortals then he did with his own kin. And with his message, the people dropped old ideals and formed together to forever destroy the threat against them.

And as the battle ended and the dust settled, a ruler stood in place of a hero.

A ruler who began as a child living on the streets of Bowerstone. Growing up to become Albion's savior, and eventually, it's King.

**A/N: Well there ya go. Return of the Court is now done and done. 35 chapters, 100k+ words. Not that bad for a first major fic in my book.**

**So, first off, I hope everyone has enjoyed this story. While I know there are errors here and there, I am quite proud of what I've done.**

**Secondly, while I'm not one to become dependent on reviews, seeing as how this is the last chapter an all. I would greatly appreciate a full on story review of what you all have thought. Essentially of the parts you may or may not have liked, parts that could have improved on for whatever reason, or what you generally thought of the fanfic as a whole. But of course, as with any other review, I can't force you to do anything over the net (I'm still working on that technology) but a fella can hope cant he.**

**As for future fics and ideas. I can easily say I have two fics for Fable I am for sure going to do. There is also a possible sequel to Return of the Court that I have in the planning stages, essentially a plot that derives from this story. Hopefully I will be able to improve my skill enough to make my stories even better.**

**So, once again, hope everyone has enjoyed this fic. Keep a look out for new fics I place in the Fable mark. And also for anything I do in other categories..**


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